


Poor Man's Poison

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Thief (Video Game 2014), Thief (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Traits, Bird/Human Hybrids, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Curses, Fluff and Angst, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overseers - Freeform, Paganism, Theft, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-01-08 02:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: After sending the Master Thief on a job, Basso is at his wits end when Garrett doesn't return. His fears are confirmed when Corvo hasn't seen the man in some time. Hoping against the odds that Garrett had simply been sidetracked by something shiny or potentially challenging, Corvo goes looking for the man at his Clocktower, only to find a horrific truth lying in wait. Caught between duty and desire, Corvo becomes Garrett's only hope for survival.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a late night inspiration that ran completely away from me. I hope you all enjoy it!

The warm light of the afternoon cast over the City, dispersing the morning fog that had lingered along the edges of the lower areas and bathing the city in a blanket of warmth. The docks were busy, Siren’s Rest filled with the hustle and bustle of sailors and laborers stopping by for drinks and food on breaks before heading off on their way. Corvo found an odd sense of comfort in the business of it all, the familiarity of home itching at the back of his thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders. The day had been uneventful, his work was but a trifle compared to his usual duties as Royal Protector. Emily was back in Dunwall, safely tucked away while he ventured forth to investigate potential trading routes this way. Mostly, it was a show of good intent, offering goods of higher quality compared to the old world ways of this City who seemed stuck in their own space of time if the decor was anything to go by. 

With the Baron no longer ruling with an iron fist and the Watch under a different chain of command, the new elected official was less problematic to deal with. Thankfully enough. Though they still had a hand out searching for the Master Thief. Corvo was reminded every time he passed by the Watch’s wanted posters, now upped in price to two thousand coin upon capture.

He had heard Basso bickering about it back at the Burrick the last time he visited looking for a bit of information. Garrett had sent him towards the fence with the promise that if it existed, chances were Basso knew about it. The fence was still wary of his presence around the Burrick and their shared time together was brief and respectable. Bordering on tolerance really. Corvo assumed that was as good as they were going to get honestly.

The Empire was curious about this lone little island on the fringes that never quite settled into the ways of the world around them. Their wasn’t much threat of invasion really. He had come and gone with a handful of ambassadors in the name of the crown, talked over compromises with the new Baroness and was graciously allowed passage through the City whenever necessary while further talks continued. That had been months ago and he was relieved no ill intent had followed. He figured the City was too busy relishing in the new boost to their economy and celebrating the cure to the Gloom which had quickly started to fade in many of the citizen’s memories. 

If anything, Corvo had to admit, they were resilient and determined. They bounced back faster than the Empire had anticipated. People were still scared, they were wary of him and others who came from the Empire but most of all, they seemed curious. As if they were staring at exotic creatures from lands far away. Corvo wasn’t very pleased with that analogy, as Garrett had put it. As if they were attending one of Vittori’s rumored performances. The thief had been rather amused at that, hanging off the ledge of a rooftop with all the lazy grace of an old feline. His relaxed posture gave the air that one wrong move and he’d plummet but Corvo was accustomed to that display. The sly smirk that spread on the thief’s face the first time he’d seen it and Corvo had blinked catch him out of habit.

Back in Dunwall, he wouldn’t have thought so lightly of Garrett’s ilk. He most certainly wouldn’t have found the strange sort of companionship he had in the man, but being branded a heretic and after the fall of the Loyalists, he didn’t have much to say for himself. He lacked the right to call himself better, even if his status showed it, standing ever prominent at Emily’s side all day in court.

He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair as the light breeze fluttered it into his face. The feathery soft locks drifting easily at the kiss of the ocean air, the taste of salt on his tongue. It was familiar and pleasant, even as he walked the cobbled streets towards Stonemarket. It was a bit too early in the afternoon to visit his favorite little magpie, and Corvo was betting the man was tucked inside his tower sound asleep in a huddle of blankets like a self-satisfied rat in its nest.

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat, reminded of the last time he had chanced a daytime visit. The weather was poor and the rain was heavy forcing a majority of the people that usually busied Stonemarket to hide away indoors with the folks who had common sense. Garrett had been bundled up in blankets, a large lump under all the fabric to fight away the chill of the storm that ghosted into his tower with the drafts. Corvo’s presence was met with a glare through the blankets. Those mismatched eyes staring him down, narrowed with sleepy heavy lidded contempt. The kohl he’d been applying to his eyes had stained the skin, offering deeper shadows that gave the look a haunted appearance. Corvo couldn’t help but laugh, crouching down beside the man as he gave a gentle little wave.

The thief had gotten payback the next night for his rude awakening and Corvo was mindful not to repeat the incident if only to keep from finding strange items and at one point, rats tucked into odd places of his belongings. Presumably put there by Garrett when he wasn’t paying attention. The man certainly lived up to his name as being a Ghost.

Instead, Corvo opted to peruse the market itself. The stalls assembled hastily as people laid out blankets and boxes for their merchandise. Little baubles and trinkets offered for the passing patrons, handcrafted and some he’d even go so far as to say exquisite as far as this corner of the world was concerned. He did give in at one point and purchased a few souvenirs for Emily, little pieces of charms and jewelry meant for young ladies. It wouldn’t be on par with the decor she was prompted to wear in court but it would suit her in her off hours or simply find a space in her quarters to be displayed like many of the other souvenir’s he’s brought back.

Amidst the items, there were food stalls where the farmers had brought in the carts filled with produce. This years harvest looked promising when he passed by the exterior crops outside the city, the little orchards and fields spread out as far as the eye could see. The earth seemed revived as much as the people had been, offering more to the men who cared for their sprouts and nurtured them over the months. He was pleased to see the final product had been worthwhile. Large, healthy and abundant. Of all the supplies to offer, produce was one of the hardest to ship but also a necessity for survival. He’d hate to think what may have happened if the harvests had failed and the Empire would have to conduct a proper transport to supply much needed food. Especially when they themselves were still recovering.

He walked the expanse of the market twice, ensuring he didn’t miss anything of interest, pausing to chat with a couple watchmen who lingered on the edges of the crowd. They seemed bored if anything, but eager for the distraction of conversation. It didn’t take long for Corvo to notice they were relatively newer to the force and younger. Still curious and overconfident but he relented when they asked about the Empire. The conversation was kept short as the Clocktower overhead chimed the time and they startled back into their patrol, sheepish in their acknowledgment. He offered the smallest of smiles in parting and carried on with his day. He had a meeting later that afternoon with a ship captain at the Siren’s Rest though he didn’t feel inclined to get there too early and be forced to wait. Patience was a virtue he often lacked when idle boredom was a more prominent threat.

He opted to take a detour and head for the Crippled Burrick instead. It was mostly empty this time of day, but it offered him a place to linger that wasn’t as busy as the Siren’s Rest. At least it kept him moving and helped him better familiarize himself with the City. He wasn’t as adept at it as Garrett was, but he was slowly learning his way around. He still got turned around and confused by the large buildings and somewhat complicated street formations. Garrett had confirmed his suspicions when the thief explained that the city was just built on top of the old foundations of previous settlements. When something fell to ruin or was destroyed, they would just build on top of that and continue on like nothing had changed. Even pointing out the unfinished clocktower as an example. Though the fact it was unfinished, Corvo came to discover, had to do with Garrett’s own intervention and a few overly exaggerated ghost stories.

The thief was lucky this wasn’t Dunwall. The Overseers would have taken those stories as a challenge and would have purged the tower of his presence. He shook the thought out of his head, ignoring what that sight would have been like. He wasn’t sure if Garrett’s connection to the Primal would be affected by the Overseer’s and their music, but he wouldn’t wish to find out. He was relieved to know that the City lacked any sort of defense like that and hoped there would never be a need for it.

Corvo’s fingers tightened into a fist at the thought, the brand flickering as the swell of magic bubbled underneath. He quelled them with a breath, easing the tension in his shoulders. He was getting worked up over nothing. The City was slowly building itself up and there would be no need for any sort of measures like that here. The only trouble they faced was a simple and very human problem and that was slowly fixing itself.

He settled his thoughts, forcing them to the back of his mind to be fretted over another time. His attention turning towards the sound of cursing that echoed from beneath the Burrick in the cellar. He tilted his head, catching a glimpse of movement through the small windows. He spotted Basso pacing frustratingly back and forth, his hands wringing together as he spewed curses that rivaled many of Corvo’s own more colorful words. He raised a brow and descended the stone steps into the hide away, knocking on the frame to announce himself. Basso whirled around quickly, green eyes wide and wild as he stared the man down, taking in the royal blue coat with the gold piping and acknowledging the intruder. 

“Trickster’s teeth!” Basso cursed. “What? I got enough trouble to deal with without ya addin to it.” 

Corvo raised an incredulous brow, taking a few wary steps inside. Basso didn’t seem inclined to shoo him away so he entered the space more fully, his shape no longer visible to any passersby. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothin. Just the same ol pain in my ass.” Basso cursed, turning towards his desk as he shuffled papers around with frantic gestures, trying to make some semblance of the normally organized space. He finally spoke after a moment, his hands coming to rest on the desk, shoulders hunched with displeasure. “You haven’t heard from Garrett have you?”

“Not for a few days. He said he had a job to do so I haven’t been by.” Corvo remembered seeing the thief several nights earlier. He had a job outside of the City but not necessarily far. Knowing the thief’s habits for scouting and preparation, Corvo figured he’d be busy preparing and didn’t want to cause a distraction.

“Yeah well he ain’t answering my summons and he was supposed to report to me two days ago.” Corvo raised a brow at that. “We have a protocol. He’s never late more than a day and if he is, he sends word.” Basso shuffled the papers, looking through them pointedly now when he came to the one he was intending on. “He finished the job on his end.” Basso started, handing the paper over to Corvo, who took it carefully in hand. 

It was a report, probably from one of Basso’s many informants around the City. It talked about the break in at some noble’s house outside the City. It was a large estate that overlooked several plantations. There were murmurs that the previous owner of the Estate mysteriously vanished and lights had been seen within the perimeter. The distant relatives of the owner had recently moved in and that offered a prime opportunity to steal a relic from their collection. Something that the new owners probably wouldn’t notice missing. The report seemed to say otherwise, the relic was noticed absent and the Watch were on high alert for the thief. The report mentioned the incident was three days ago.

“He was supposed to report in that morning or the night after to drop off the target.” Basso explained as Corvo returned the paper to his desk. “Nobody has seen him since. Not even the Queen and her Beggars.”

Corvo frowned, looking Basso over thoughtfully, wondering if maybe the fence was overreacting a little about it all. “Could he have just been delayed? You know how he gets when there’s a tip on something shiny.” He offered, earning a snort from Basso in response. 

“He knows better than to be late with a job.” Basso affirmed.

“Well if the watch are still looking for him, he could be lying low until things calm down.” Basso seemed to consider this, the crease of his brow and the shifting of his stance showed he may have already thought this over. 

“Still, he would have reached out to someone. The Beggars would have gotten a message through if he couldn’t.” Basso reasoned, chewing on the inside of his lip in contemplation. His fists tucked against the desk surface, white knuckled under the pressure.

Corvo could empathize with the man. The concern roiling in his stomach, bubbling just beneath the surface with the bitter tinge of fear worming through it. He knew Garrett was a professional at what he does, has seen the thief execute far riskier and dangerous endeavors, with himself included. Hell, the day they met was probably the most foolish and reckless thing he’s seen the thief do and even Garrett was able to out pace him, even with his Blink and Vision active. If he could play with the Royal Protector the way Emily plays Hide and Seek, he figured the Watch would be no problem for the thief. 

“I’ll keep an eye out and when it gets darker, I’ll check in and see if he’s just held up in his tower.” Corvo offered, earning a brief nod of understanding from Basso. The man was quiet, eyes searching the papers laid before him as if the answers he desperately sought after would materialize. Corvo took that as enough of a dismissal and left.

* * *

  
  


The meeting at Siren’s Rest was short. The captain he talked with was an older woman who ran a cargo ship hauling supplies between the islands on a regular basis and even strayed further to the Empire if the coin was worth it. With Corvo’s offer, the coin would definitely suffice to entice her into a contract. A simple enough trial run for now before they take on anything too permanent. 

By the time he left and made his way back to Stonemarket, it had emptied out almost completely aside from the few spare Watchmen wandering in steady patrols. They were easy enough to skim by as curfew began to set in. A few choice blinks hidden under the cover of the darkening skyline and he was on the rooftops away from prying eyes. The City looked different up here, far different than Dunwall at night. It lacked the bright lights, instead hidden in a veil of fog that rolled off the banks of the rivers over the low lying streets, and the faint orange glow of firelight dotting the choice spots along the paths. He could faintly see the guards patrolling in pairs of two, one clinging to a torch to illuminate the darkened corners and hideaways the lanterns and lamp lights failed to reach. It was different, looking at a City that lacked the same power as Dunwall. So much could be improved on, elevated even. 

Then again, he assumed that would make people like Garrett, their lives far more complicated. He knew the Master Thief would overcome those obstacles, working around the new world with his clever mind and greedy desire for challenge. He may have even welcomed it with open arms if only to encourage his itchy fingers to pluck more valuable prizes from the unwary nobility.

Corvo waited quietly, dark brown eyes watching the entrance to the clocktower for several minutes, searching for any sign of movement or even the flicker of the brazier in the window. After a long pause, he used his Dark Vision. Yet nothing appeared alive within the tower, aside from the nesting birds that made their home in the rafters. Sighing, he Blinked the rest of the way up the tower to land on the windowsill, hearing the crunch of something under his boots. He blinked, looking down at the matchbox messages Basso’s pet bird had left behind. Plucking one up between his fingers, he turned it over and read the small scratched words requesting Garrett come to the Burrick. There were a small handful more on the sill, untouched as well and each growing increasingly more anxious in their messages.

Corvo stepped further inside the tower, inspecting the brazier and the cold ashes at the bottom of it. It had been a while since anyone had used it, making that ache of concern return in his chest. He pushed it off, refusing to let Basso’s paranoia get to him. Garrett was a professional. He was also a man of many resources and talents. If any trouble had arisen after the job, Garrett would have already been prepared. He had fallbacks, safe houses and contacts outside of Basso to reach out to. Yes, he was a creature of many strange and peculiar habits but he was not reckless or unwary.

Corvo could feel it in his bones. His concerns faded as he resolved to wait. If Garrett was in a bad spot, and knowing the thief and his habits, he would only move at night when it was safest. Any chance of him returning would be about this time anyway. He lifted his left hand and targeted the rafters above, making quick work to balance in the boughs of the Tower and deciding on his decision. He settled down on a beam, leaning his back against the support and straddling his legs on either side. He caught the curious glance of a bird staring back at him from its nest. It stretched its wings and clicked its beak in quiet warning to keep his hands to himself. He made an amused sound and settled in.

Corvo wasn’t aware of how long he’d waited, listening to the quick ticking of the clock and the steady soft grind of gears. He could see how Garrett felt at ease in the monotonous song, what would have been considered a nuisance, he had quickly found an equal sense of comfort in, counting off each one as the heavy hands of the clock face moved to their beat. His leg swayed slowly back and forth in repetitive motion matching its pace. It soothed his restless need for motion and even lured him to a soft doze after a while. His arms folded over his chest and head tucked to his shoulder. His attention snapping up when he heard the distant and unusual scrape of metal on brick. Corvo blinked through the darkness, his eyes adjusting quickly as he searched for the cause of the sound. 

The clock chimed loudly, announcing that it was midnight just as a rush of movement crashed in through the windowsill. The tumble of black fabric was punctuated by a groan and heavy ragged breathing. Garrett’s small form was sprawled across the wood floor, his cloak draped around him as he struggled to move. His right hand releasing the claw that had aided his climb, now to grasp at the wood boards for some form of purchase but his fingers did nothing more than twitch. His shoulders shaking with every hard fought breath.

Corvo Blinked to him, landing in a crouch as he dropped a hand to the thief’s shoulder. “Garrett?” He called but the man made no noise of acknowledgement. He gave him a little shake but silence remained. Cursing through his teeth, Corvo gripped both of Garrett’s shoulders and rolled him over. His heart dropped into his stomach when he turned him over. The mask that had covered his mouth was soaked through with blood, large dark rivulets puddled from Garrett’s nostrils, almost black in the low light, mixing with the dark trails from his eyes where the Kohl had been smeared. He was deathly pale, the skin drawn tight to his cheek bones like he’d been starved for months, dark inky lines spread where veins were now prominent beneath the surface.

Corvo drew the mask away, trying to aid the man in his breathing, wincing at the shadows around his jawline where it stained, his skin and teeth nearly red from it. Dark globs clung to his lips, cracked and raw where they bled. 

He worked quickly to remove the weapons and pouches that cluttered Garrett’s body, relieving him of each layer that clung to his frail form. The leathers coming loose after a few fumbled attempts at the straps and buckles. The corset came undone and was discarded with the rest of his belongings. His undershirt and the pair of trousers he wore beneath his gear was soaked through with sweat, plastered uncomfortably to his skin. The rest of his body shared the same dark lines that spread like a plague. His breathing evened out, slowly enough but there was still a continued wheeze in his chest. Like he couldn’t get enough air in. Corvo noticed, while trying to remove Garrett’s gloves, that something was clutched tightly in his grasp. He had attempted to pry the item out of his left palm but feared he’d sooner break bones than get the thief to relinquish whatever it was. He removed the other glove instead and carried him to the bed on the floor below.

Corvo collected a basin of water from upstairs and found a clean rag the thief often used for washing up at the end of the night. He brought them down to the side table to rest and started to clean the blood away from his face, moving ever so gentle along his jawline and catching the remnants that creased at his neck. He rinsed the rag twice before he was content that he got most of it, repeating the action with the smears of kohl that trailed on his face like void stained tears. His gaunt features lacking the normally subtle glow of mischief and the healthier suppleness of his face.

Garrett failed to stir throughout the ordeal, which was rather uncharacteristic of the normally paranoid and flighty man. Corvo took a step back, returning the rag to the basin and letting it hang on the edge. His attention drawn back to the inky dark lines that seemed to pulse throughout his body, a subtle quivering of muscles trembled through the thief as he slept. A feverish sense that urged Corvo to find a spare blanket from one of the trunks upstairs and return to drape it over the smaller frame. He tried once more to relieve Garrett’s left hand of its prize but the thief’s grip only seemed to tighten more as ridiculous as that sounded. He saw the flex of muscle and the veins bulge in his forearm like he were straining to keep it. A groan left Garrett’s chest, startling Corvo as he glanced back up. The man’s eyelids fluttered but never opened, he swallowed thickly and squirmed as if pained by something. The dark lines only seemed to grow darker the longer he watched.

A keening whine left Garrett’s chest as the item in his grasp pulsed with a faint light. A vibration like a heartbeat reverberated throughout the room, causing Corvo’s brand to burn white hot on his own hand. He raised it to inspect the sudden flash of his mark but it was gone as quickly as it happened and Garrett had gone still and quiet in the blankets.

“What in the void is going on?” He cursed, examining Garrett’s grasp, more mindful towards actually touching whatever it was. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be wood carved, strung on a leather cord that appeared broken on the edges, as if the thief had snatched it roughly from where it had been hanging. There were dark marks branded into the wood but with Garrett still clinging to it, he couldn’t get a better look at the actual shape. It was no bigger than his palm, his long slender fingers wrapped around it firmly and easily. The tight grasp looked almost painful to him but he could only hope the thief would release it as he slept.

* * *

  
  


To Corvo’s immense displeasure, Garrett did not release the item. The thief had continued to cling to it, even as Corvo changed him from his sweaty blood stained underclothes, cleaning up yet another nose bleed Garrett seemed to suffer in the night. He had to turn him onto his side to prevent him from choking on his own fluids and let it all drain out onto a towel while he shivered and whimpered in the man’s arms. The item pulsed once more and Garrett spasmed in Corvo’s grip, recoiling away from his touch. An inhuman noise broke in the thief’s throat, something akin to a scream that seemed to come from deep in his chest.

Corvo was at his wit’s end by the second night. Unaware of what to do and lacking any medical professionals to turn to and wishing he had brought Sokolov or Piero along with him, he turned and went to find Basso. He didn’t risk being gone for long, filling the fence in on what had transpired. Basso gave Corvo a look that screamed bullshit as he eyed him suspiciously.

“You expect me to believe that?” Basso growled, eyes narrowed with disbelief and the itching desire to put his fists somewhere other than his desk.

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know what to do. If I were in Dunwall, I’d look for a physician but Garrett doesn’t have that luxury here.” Corvo pressed. “I don’t know this City the way you do. I don’t know how to help him.”

Basso looked down at the papers on his desk, a grimace spreading across his face as he turned back a scowl at the man. “Black veins and nose bleeds? Sounds like poisoning.” Basso gave a dismissive wave. “But I don’t know a single toxin that causes that here.”

“I don’t think it's poison.” Corvo pointed out flatly. “He’s holding something and won’t give it up. It... _ hums _ and he responds to it like it’s causing him pain.” Basso looked at him incredulously, brows pinched together at that. Then something seemed to click, something like familiarity then it was replaced by something darker.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” He ran a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

“What?”

“I’m gettin real sick of this supernatural bullshit.” He grumbled, giving a dismissive wave at Corvo who looked even more confused. “What does it look like?”

Corvo was perplexed but he’d bite. If Basso knew what it was, then that was a bonus for him. Corvo looked around, searching for a spare piece of paper when Basso pushed one towards him across the desk. A pen followed and he got to work drawing his best approximation of what exactly Garrett was holding. It wasn’t on Sokolov’s level of skill but it was recognizable to someone who knew. At least he hoped. He handed it back to Basso who examined it closely and made a disgruntled sound. 

“I’ll ask the Queen and see what she knows.” He finally said, carefully folding the paper up and tucking it inside his coat. “If you need supplies, just ask upstairs. Tell the barman that I sent ya and he’ll let ya help yerself.” 

Corvo nodded quickly, waiting a moment more before departing for the bar. He was eager to return, every minute he dallied here, Garrett was at risk of getting worse on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

A day had passed since his talk with Basso and Corvo was struggling. Garrett had hardly woken up and when he was even remotely conscious, he was barely lucid or aware. It took all the patience in the world for Corvo to work some form of fluid into the man, easing it in little trickles from a glass into Garrett’s mouth and even more patience to get him to swallow. He had to, at one point, massage his throat to try and work movement along. His fingers gently brushing along the pale dip to elicit some reaction. Corvo was prepared for him to start choking but after nearly an hour, he got half a glass of water into him. Not wanting to risk his small fortune of luck, he let the man lie back into the blankets and covered him back up. He still shivered and seemed feverish but there was more movement in him now. He would shift on the mattress on his own, rolling this way and that, sometimes thrashing wildly with raucous screams that gurgled out in distress before falling quiet once more.

He was thankful for the rumors that the tower was haunted, keeping any Watch from coming up to check what was causing the noises. Had this been Dunwall, there would have been guards and Overseers crawling all over the tower assuming some form of Witchcraft was going on. Which, they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. The inky lines that stretched across Garrett’s body had darkened and solidified now, like someone had taken an inkwell and feather and traced his veins. The lines were thin and covered the top most layer of his skin. Corvo had tried at one point to see if they could be scrubbed off, but to no avail.

Garrett's dark hair was plastered to his forehead, tangled over his brows where it swooped and started to curl. Corvo brushed a gentle palm over Garrett’s forehead to smooth them back. The thief tipped up into his touch, seeking out the careful warmth that caressed his cold skin. Corvo sighed, looking towards the additional blankets he’d gathered from the Burrick now draped over Garrett’s body in layers. The brazier upstairs had been burning constantly for days, offering enough warmth that Corvo had removed his own coat to cool himself down. The kiss of fresh air every time he left for a few moments was a welcome relief.

The strange item had stopped pulsing as far as Corvo could tell which was a relief all its own. His left arm was starting to ache with every hum and throb that rippled throughout the room, making his fingers seize up and struggle to keep their strength without cramping.

One of the times he had left to scour for food, he'd stopped to check in with Basso for information, but was only met with a concerned shake of the head. He gave a brief update on Garrett’s status and stopped to gather another spare blanket and some fresh water. He returned to the tower, carrying his supplies up with a few carefully placed blinks and landed in the windowsill. A shiver raced down his spine as he entered the space, the hairs standing on end across his arms and down his neck. His eyes searched the darkness with a quick flash of Dark Vision but was met with the same glow he had anticipated. His gaze fixed downstairs and noticed the position the thief was in wasn’t the same he’d left him in. Setting his supplies on the workbench upstairs and dismissing his vision, he noticed Garrett was sitting up in bed. His eyes were open and he looked more lucid now.

Corvo paused in his descent down the steps when he noticed his gaze was directed down at his hands. Garrett was staring at the strange object, turning it over in his palms and brushing his fingers carefully over it, tracing the branded markings with an acute sort of fascination only reserved for the shiniest of baubles that he’d pluck from jobs. But nothing about this item should have snagged Garrett’s fancy in that way. It didn’t shimmer or glisten. There was no brightness or lure that would have stolen his desires. It was as Corvo expected, a wooden piece, carved in what he could faintly make out to be a heart. Not the marketed romanticized version that young ladies would find adorable. This appeared to be a wooden rendition of an actual living heart.

He shifted his weight causing the step to groan under him. Garrett startled, his head snapping up to pin Corvo in place. His body shifting protectively as he stuffed the relic inside his shirt. Corvo noticed the leather cord had been fixed and was now looped around his neck. The item was resting somewhat close to his own heart which was terribly disconcerting for Corvo’s comfort. As was the look Garrett aimed his way as if he were intruding upon something incredibly personal. 

He raised his hands in a placating manner, stepping closer to Garrett’s bed. The man eyed him warily, his head tilting with mismatched eyes following his every move. Flicking from Corvo’s hands to his face with a displeased look until he had leaned against the railing, offering distance between them. Only the faint orange glow of the candle on the bedside lit the darkness around them.

“You feeling better?” Corvo started, breaking the quiet that settled uncomfortably between them. It was a sharp reminder of the first time they had met. That look of wary distrust directed his way, only this time it lacked the sarcastic commentary and display of defiance that Corvo had come to find quite charming in the thief.

Garrett remained quiet, only offering the briefest of nods in response. His eyes fixed on Corvo in a way that exuded discomfort in the man. It was unlike any way a human should look at another person. It, in some ways, reminded him of the rats that swarmed the sewers during the Dunwall plague. The predatory glint in their movements, acutely aware of their surroundings and sizing up anything even remotely alive and potentially in reach. No matter the daunting size of the target. Only instead of numerous eyes and tiny bodies, Corvo was met with one gaze and from somebody so painfully familiar to him. It felt like ice cold water had been poured over him. He had gone deathly still and Garrett seemed to have mirrored his movements or lack thereof.

The dark webbing of lines broke up the pallor of his body and seemed to fade into the shadows around him, pooling into the dips and curves of flesh, limbs too thin to be healthy. The discomforting silence was disturbed only when the clock chimed, bellowing out the early morning hours. Garrett seemed to flinch at the noise, a full body recoil that had him pressing against the wall with a startled hiss. Teeth clenched together and eyes wildly searching the room, avoiding Corvo's stance and lifting towards the rafters where the birds ruffled their feathers and stretched their wings. 

_ Okay. That was not normal behavior. _ Corvo confirmed, taking a step forward. Garrett snapped his attention back towards him, freezing him in place with the sort of look a frightened and wounded animal gives a hunter that's cornered it. Corvo's stomach flipped, clenching tightly with unease as he held his hands up placatingly.

"Its alright. Calm down Garrett. I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was soft, a quiet promise that broke through the chaotic breathing that rasped from the thief's chest. He gestured gently towards the bedside table. "Are you hungry? Basso sent over some provisions."

He watched the wary rise and fall of the thief's chest, the subtle tilt of his head as his gaze flickered towards the table. His brows furrowed in confusion before settling on the cloth wrapped parcel Corvo had tucked out of the way after walking in on Garrett bleeding all over himself for the third time in one night. He was met, after some time of deliberation, with a slow jerky nod. Corvo watched as Garrett's fingers fidgeted restlessly with the frayed edges of the blankets while he unwrapped the parcel and exposed the tins of jerky and dried fruits. He pried the lid off of them and set them on the table easily within Garrett's reach. He didn't want to push his luck and get too close to the man in the state he was now. Only pausing to steal a dried piece of meat and taking a bite, showing him that the food was safe. 

No matter how frazzled Garrett was, the man was paranoid at the heart of it all and made that very obvious after Corvo got to know him better, refusing to take food or drink from anyone that he hadn't prepared himself. Even paranoid enough to avoid anything Basso had given him, or at least not before giving it a few wary sniffs searching for hints of foul play.

That was a constant that Corvo had come to expect. That was something he had warily anticipated. That was something that was painfully lacking at the moment. Garrett didn't even halt in his actions, reaching out to steal the container of dried apricots and stuffing a piece into his mouth with all the reckless abandon of a child stealing candy. There was no pause of suspicion, no prolonged inspection with narrowed eyes or prodding it to compare to other pieces as if deciding if it's worth was actually valuable enough to be added to the contents of his own stomach. Corvo's jaw had fallen slack with disbelief, his own scant appetite had completely vanished. The dried meat tasted foul on his tongue and he could barely stomach finishing the bite he was currently chewing. Something was inherently _ wrong _and it went further than just a man sickened by disease. This was beyond feverish delirium or altered states of consciousness. And Corvo had a very strong suspicion that it had to do with the item Garrett was wearing.

* * *

Days went by slowly, almost painfully for Corvo as he watched the extreme change in the man before him. Garrett didn’t speak, come to find out. He made odd crackled sounds in his throat as if something had strained or strangled him, severing his ability for true speech. His head swiveled in a strange inhuman way, his body hunched up on itself more often than not, as he inspected the world around him with wariness. He lacked the fluid feline grace that had spread across his body with all the allure of a professional performer.

The dark lines that bled across his body seemed to lighten if only a touch and Garrett was more mobile away from the bed. The nosebleeds stopped and he was eating and drinking more which was a relief for Corvo’s already building concerns. He’d caught the thief clambering over the railings and walking them with equal balance as his past self, but with an added hop to his posture that wouldn’t have seemed strange had Corvo been watching small children play on chalk line drawings on the ground and not a full grown man who lacked all childish enthusiasm. 

He had fallen at one point, a subtle loss of balance as Garrett’s body swayed unsteadily high up in the rafters above. Corvo had only been mildly aware of his presence when he returned from his outing, the flicker of yellow in his Vision and the sudden thrum that vibrated throughout the room. His head snapped up when he saw Garrett’s shadowy figure looming on the beams with the birds. His eyes closed, one hand rose to the side of his head, his body listed unsteadily to the side and he toppled with a stumbled step. He seemed completely unaware of the predicament as Corvo’s heart stopped. 

He reached his left hand out, drawing time to a complete stop around him. The gears grinding above had been silenced, the ticking had faded in his ears, replaced by the rushing of his blood and the ache of weariness as he Blinked towards him. His arms wrapping around Garrett’s fragile form, pulling him to his chest in mid air and Blinked again to the lower level. Time set back into motion when the relic hummed, loudly now as if displeased with the Royal Protector’s actions. His brand burned, the muscles in his arm cramping painfully forcing him to release whatever hold he had on the world.

Garrett fell into motion with the clock above, the ticking resumed, a ghostly hiss in the gears as the thief’s eyes snapped open. He bared teeth at the man in an inhuman hiss and contorted himself out of Corvo’s arms, fingers clawing wildly at his face, drawing blood with one swipe across his cheek as he was forced to oblige him.

Corvo stumbled back as Garrett huddled back against the wall, the relic thumming softly against his chest as he cradled his head with a pained whimper. Corvo could see it now, what he had mistaken for black nail polish on the thief’s hands had been distorted into long curled nails, almost talon like in their appearance. He felt the warmth trickle down his cheek and the residual sting of split skin. He ignored the minute pain, his attention snapping up. Garrett eyed him warily through narrowed eyes and bared his teeth, lips curled into a snarl. Corvo was forced to back away and give the thief his space, watching carefully from the stairs as Garrett pulled himself away from the wall after a long stretch of silent deliberation.

Corvo felt the chest deep ache of helplessness swelling over him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Garrett like this but it was getting increasingly harder to try and help when he now had the threat of having his eyes clawed out. Garrett was getting harder and harder to interact with in the passing days and Basso still hadn’t much to offer other than the item appeared to be Pagan. That was it.

The Queen had eluded to it when the fence had spoken with her, and if what Basso relayed was anything to go by, there wasn’t anything Corvo _ could do _aside from wait it out and hope that Garrett could break away from whatever this was. And of course, he still had to find a way to remove the item from Garrett’s possession. The man clung to it when he slept and kept it hidden within his shirt when he was awake. Any chance of getting near it would result in attack and Corvo was too afraid to implement force and risk hurting Garrett in his fragile state. Not to mention the effect it had on his own Mark as if repelling his interference.

He was also running out of time. He would be expected back in Dunwall any day now. He couldn’t risk spending all of his time in the City watching over Garrett yet at the same time, he couldn’t leave the man in this state. He wouldn’t survive and any attempts he made to leave the tower, when that interest does spring forth, would lead to his death. Be it by Watchmen or a fall. Staying here would result in starvation and Basso couldn’t reach Garrett to ensure he was alright. It resulted in a heavy ache of acknowledgement knowing he was Garrett’s only hope in this City, his only chance of survival at all. 

He cast a look over the upper balcony, inspecting the man as he paced the lower levels, shying away from the trophy cases that lined one wall. The twinge of fear sprung forth as Corvo noticed, the objects that Garrett had painstakingly collected and preened over proudly every time Corvo visited now did nothing but terrify the man. He watched them warily as the trinkets and baubles caught the faint silver rays of moonlight pooling through the clock face and glistened in the candlelight. He was skittish, watching them warily as if their shine would cause him harm. Garrett narrowed his eyes and hissed before retreating back to his corner where he’d turned the pile of blankets into a nest of sorts that wrapped around him comfortably. He perched in the center of it all, hoarding the tins of dried fruits and nuts Corvo had brought from the Crippled Burrick, savoring the sweet and salty treats when he thought the Royal Protector wasn’t paying attention. As if Garrett himself was unaware that Corvo had seen him hide them under his pillows.

The day dragged on and Garrett slept through most of it with sporadic bursts of pacing and climbing before returning to his bed with little items he’d found around the tower. Feathers from his arrow fletchings, wooden carvings of fabled creatures that he’d found in his chest, pieces of torn fabric that simply looked like rags to Corvo but had the faint scent of perfumes, already fading and accompanied by the soft tinge of leather oil. He pulled on things that were colorful, dull and lacking the shine of his true treasures, hoarding what was essentially trash in Corvo’s opinion. 

He didn’t think nothing of it much until he caught the thief rifling through his coat pockets when he was sleeping. Corvo had caught his hands out of habit, his left hand raised defensively when he noticed the wide mismatched eyes and heard the raspy noise that left Garrett’s throat in alarm. His hands raised, flexing the nails that had turned to somewhat talons as he struggled weakly in Corvo’s grasp. Corvo slowly let go of him, hushing his fears gently. Garrett retracted his hands and tucked them to his chest, backing himself against the upper floor railing and looked at the man with apprehension.

The item Garrett seemed intent on taking was one of the carefully made souvenirs he picked up in the market for Emily. It was a bracelet made of leather that buckled around the wrist, branded with the scenery of the ocean, birds flying high over the lapping waves with dolphins playfully arching below in the depths, swooping and jumping through the landscape. It was studded with pieces of polished blue and green glass that was made smooth by the waves and their natural fury. It was rather simple compared to the items nobility wore back in Dunwall but this was made with the delicate hands of a fisherman’s daughter with all the care and attention to detail that he found a fondness for acknowledging. Especially given the sheer delight that lit up her young face when he’d purchased it, giving her more than what the item was actually worth.

Corvo withdrew the souvenir and held it up, inspecting it closely in a thoughtful show, not caring much for the item itself but watching just beyond at Garrett’s expression. The way his eyes followed the bracelet with fascination and his fingers twitched, itchy with the need to _ take. _

_ At least that’s still normal. _ Corvo thought to himself. He sighed, rolling the item between his thumb and palm, outlining the branded scenery and swiping the pad of his finger over the polished glass. When angled properly, they caught the light and spread bright colorful lines against the wall that mesmerized Garrett with a sound that had to be a gasp but it was choked off. 

After a long moment of contemplation, he had decided. Holding it out towards Garrett, not quite within reach yet but enough to snag the thief’s attention. “You want it?” There was a wary nod. Corvo shifted on the floor, straightening himself up so his back was pressed to the wall as he curled his fingers, beckoning him in. “Come here then. I’ll put it on you.”

Garrett had stiffened, looking at the piece with conflict, caught between the twisted form of his body prepared to flee at the slightest hint of danger and the twitchy need in his hands. Corvo was patient, he waited with heavily lidded eyes, working away the tendrils of sleep that had been rudely interrupted. He silenced a yawn that threatened to break, stifling it with a flex of his jaw instead. Garrett slowly stepped closer, his right hand held out but the left raised protectively. His talons sharp and longer than Corvo last remembered. As Garrett neared, dropping into a clumsy crouch, Corvo could see an odd shape sticking out of his hairline. He narrowed his eyes, focusing in the faint light reaching into his dark little corner and noticed Garrett’s hair had been combed back against his skull, greasy in appearance but in between the scraggly strands was _ feathers? _

There were short little black tufts like the feathers on the top of a bird’s head. They were fluffier than his hair, smoothed back with his dark locks but sticking up where they’d been ruffled. 

The chuff of impatience drew Corvo’s attention back to Garrett’s waiting hand. He crooked his jaw and offered a small apologetic smile. He reached up slowly, making sure not to move too fast and startle the man as he placed the leather bracelet on Garrett’s wrist, gently turning it over so he could buckle the clasp in place and ensured it was tight enough not to slip over his tiny hands. His own palms dwarfed the thief’s, looking so fragile and slender. Even with the talons tipping the ends, the nail polish had been chipped away, the black lines on his skin bleeding into the enamel of his nails.

“There you go.” Corvo smiled, watching the thief carefully as he inspected the new addition to his person. A rough chirp trilled in his throat as he settled onto his rear, plopping down across from Corvo and ran his fingers over the scenery with acute fascination. His lips pulled into a thin line, brows furrowed with concentration as he traced the dolphins with a single talon. Corvo was content with this position, after Garrett had avoided him for the past week, too frightened to get within touching distance. The fact that he was trusting him enough to stay in his presence was a good sign at least. He only hoped he could work on this and keep moving forward, that maybe he could figure something out to fix what had been done.

Come to find out, over the next day or so, that giving Garrett little things and offering compromises was exactly how to earn his trust. In the past, just leaving things on the side table for him to come to himself wasn’t enough. It wasn’t building the bond the way sharing food or drink was doing. Corvo withheld many things that Garrett _ wanted, _ignoring the displeasure as he ruffled himself and hissed until he was forced to oblige the Royal Protector’s whims. He was rewarded amply for his obedience, with small treats Corvo had kept tucked away into his pockets and other little knickknacks he’d picked up more akin to the items Garrett was currently hoarding. His nest was growing, now adding colorful lengths of clothing and fabrics bathed in scented oils and perfumes.

Often the requirements involved Garrett simply sitting beside him, eating dried fruits that Corvo would hand him from a tin in his pocket. He was still flighty and would spook easily if there was any loud noise to startle them. Be it yelling in the Plaza outside or a shock of thunder crossing the sky in the late evening. It would send him scrambling with wide fearful eyes, launching his whole body over the upper floor railing and landing in a huddled crouch down below, pressed into the shadows beneath the stairs. The first time it happened, Corvo’s heart broke in his chest, hearing the eerie hiss of fear that cracked from Garrett’s throat and the ruffled feathers that stood on end spiking through his hairline.

It took him an hour to calm the thief and entice him out of his hiding spot with soft spoken words and little promises. Garrett had obeyed, albeit reluctantly. Even more so when Corvo tried to talk him into washing up. It had been days since he’d been properly bathed and wallowing in the mixture of oil slick clothes wasn’t doing any good. Corvo held back the urge to wrinkle his nose whenever he caught a whiff of the other man, maintaining his neutral facade with all the hard fought years of practice standing idly in the Courts of Dunwall, ignoring the masses of nobility with their pungent perfumes and colognes. The old Garrett wouldn’t have allowed such a concoction to cling to him, often obsessively clean in mannerism if only to ward off dogs or guards catching the faint hints of his presence. 

Corvo scrounged around for the bar of mint soap that the thief kept tucked away in a cabinet of toiletries, a spare wash rag and a fresh basin of warm water, courtesy of the brazier fire, was settled on the table. He coaxed Garrett to gently remove his shirt, soft promises made not to harm him as he jittered away from large strong hands. Corvo frowned when he finally got the thief to hold still in the candlelight. 

He had noticed the odd shadows beneath the white undershirt in the last few days. Had mistaken them easily as being more shadowy lines imprinted on his skin. Even ignoring the rumpled fabric around his shoulders and collar as being caused by his filthy appearance. The shirt was foul in odor, like he’d been wallowing in a trash bin for days and Corvo was not at all remorseful when he threw it to the other side of the room with a grimace. He was met with a concerning sight. It shouldn’t have surprised him honestly after the crown of feathers that started along Garrett’s bangs, short and soft to the touch. Now there were layers of ridged flesh on his upper arms, spanning across his shoulders and mid back. Beneath the ridges were black feathers growing in, coarser and sturdier than the feathers on his head. The skin was warped, adding layers to the feathers as they came in but they were scattered and speckled like a newborn chick gaining its down for the first time.

When he urged Garrett to remove his trousers, the same sight appeared on the backs of his calves with the skin of his feet turning hard and calloused on the tops and sides. The pallor turning a light grey that started to deepen in the dips and curves. Smooth and sensitive when Corvo’s thumb stroked over it thoughtfully. Garrett shifted with a low chuff, narrowing his eyes at the man as if anticipating trouble from his touch. 

“Sorry.” Corvo ignored the doppling of soft down that had grown in over his groin and patched along his hips like a crown. They were ridiculously soft, spreading along his waist and trailing just below his navel with an enticing dip down. Corvo was relieved though, to see he hadn’t yet sprouted tail feathers. 

He distracted himself with the task at hand, working the warm wet rag over Garrett’s skin, watching the gooseflesh that replaced his touch as the evening air cooled the dampness. He was quick, replacing it with the white bubbly lather of the mint soap. The fragrance was softer on the senses and Garrett seemed content with the slow monotonous motions that massaged and lathered his skin. A soft trill rumbling from his chest as Corvo washed his arms and shoulders, scrubbed along his chest and sides and gave very careful attention to his hands and talons. The thief was unbothered when Corvo’s hands worked lower down his torso, dropping to his hips and then further along his thighs.

“Hold onto my shoulder.” Corvo directed when he needed to wash Garrett’s feet, inspecting the smaller nails that were growing in like his talons. He felt the prickle of nails at his back and held his breath, feeling the click of talons as Garrett gripped for balance. He winced when one pressed a little too hard into his shoulder and felt the warm drip of broken skin sticky against his shirt. He had expected as much. Garrett offered an apologetic chirp but it was mild. Corvo worked to finish quickly if only to warm the thief up from the inevitable chill setting in. Garrett stood nervously in the center of the room when Corvo rose, turning the newly rinsed rag to his face, washing the gaunt dip of his cheek bones and the strong shape of his jaw, examining the feathers that started to tuft behind his ears and eventually washed through the downy coat in his hair. Garrett dipped his head towards Corvo’s attentive fingers, leaning forward for better reach. 

Several minutes passed by when Corvo noticed the thief swaying where he stood. His fingers fidgeted idly with the relic still strung around his neck but his shoulders had sagged significantly. He shifted closer in a small shuffle of movement and then he felt the warm pressure of Garrett’s forehead against his chest. The deep inhale that preceded an even greater exhale, releasing the tension in his body. Corvo didn’t need to look to know that the thief was starting to doze against him. A gentle touch at Garrett’s jaw and he tilted his head up with sleepy mismatched eyes. He blinked at Corvo, the sideways slide of his eyelids was only mildly disturbing at this point. Corvo brushed his fingers through the damp tufts, preening through them with his fingertips and relishing the soft sounds that alighted the air between them.

Corvo assumed some residual touch starved portion of Garrett had been revived by their interactions. The touch of warm familiar fingers on a body that hungered for it in the brief visits they allowed themselves, stealing away from the responsibilities of the world to indulge in secret rendezvous. They had once been enemies, that was true, but the bond they had forged was beyond that of simple bed partners seeking relief before sneaking off into the night before dawn's approach. Their lives had been complicated, even more so when duty overshadowed the desires of the heart and distance was a stranglehold of _ what if’ _s. 

Corvo had considered it something precious between them. Something uniquely their own. After seeing Garrett so fearful of his presence and turning to violence at the prospect of his touch had rended through his heart, left it raw and wounded like the claws that drew blood on his cheek. It was a pain he had once shoved out of his thoughts and tried to suffocate in the long lonely nights. To be rejected and shoved away, to feel helpless in his endeavors once more, it only fed the grief that had laid his heart barren for so long. 

To hear the soft trill of acceptance return, even if the man before him was something completely new and complex, was a relief on its own. It didn’t soothe the pain in its entirely. Only time could offer a balm for those injuries but he could work around this. He was determined to do so. For Garrett’s sake. He refused to let a tragic history repeat itself once more.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo and Garrett go on a trip!
> 
> Garrett is not a happy birb.

Okay, maybe he hadn’t necessarily planned this out well enough. The ship was waiting for them in the harbor, prepared to disembark any day now and return to Dunwall. He had more than enough supplies packed and prepared for the both of them, had gathered what important items Garrett had stowed in his nest and tucked them out of view while the man was sound asleep in the rafters above. His body sprawled out lazily, lured asleep to the continuous ticking of the clock face. Yet another relief that things never truly changed at the heart of it. He was prepared to leave, to take Garrett with him to Dunwall with hopes that someone there could help him. He had even discussed the plan with Basso, who promptly fussed and protested and argued back. But after hearing in full detail the exact complications of Garrett’s situation and the fact the thief was now growing _ feathers _ and _ talons, _ he reluctantly relented. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying though and Corvo assured him he would take good care of Garrett and return him back to the fence when he was cured of his affliction. Preparations for departure aside, the real challenge came in getting Garrett away from the relic. For this, Basso had directed him towards an inventor named Ector who had built a lock box of sorts, easily portable and incredibly resilient. The man had pulled an all nighter under the pressure of Corvo’s urgent request and paid handsomely in return with the small fortune Garrett kept tucked away. Considering the circumstances, Corvo doubted Garrett would be too put off by that and he would supplement the thief’s losses later when all was said and done.

He set everything by the windowsill as quietly as he possibly could, mindful of Garrett’s sleeping form and ensuring he didn’t wake the man. Previous attempts to relieve him of the problematic relic often led to a struggle with Corvo losing blood over the ordeal and Garrett hiding under the stairs with a disgruntled hiss and narrowed eyes. On the rarer occasion, the relic would respond to the mark if he got too riled up and it would end up causing them both immense pain and discomfort for the rest of the day. He had to do this carefully for both their sakes.

He focused his mark, Blinking up to the rafters and settling quietly beside Garrett’s sleeping form. He counted the minutes in the ticking of the tower, waiting for the wisps and pull of magic to recede below the surface. He could feel the subtle heat of the relic starting to rear in his presence. He breathed carefully, patient enough to wait it out as long as he needed to. His right hand reaching out to gently brush over the feathers in Garrett’s hair, relishing in their softness tangled in his dark locks. The previous bath had worked wonders on his physical appearance and had relaxed the thief considerably afterwards. He was less flighty than before, but not by much. Garrett was more likely to seek out Corvo’s touch afterwards, nuzzling into the large warmth of his palm as it caressed his cheek and smoothed over his hair. The small massaging circles of his thumb on his jaw and along his temples was welcomed with soft sighs and even softer trills.

His hand dropped lower, caressing the dip and curve of his neck and delicately skimming along his chin. Corvo turned his fingers, stroking his knuckles along the thief’s jaw in little motions. Garrett shifted on the beam, mindful to stay balanced with his tiny body straddling it. His head adjusting to the new touch and angle, exposing the leather cording at his adam’s apple. The heavy weight of the relic laying beside him. The heat started to stir, causing Corvo to retract his hand back up into his hairline while it ebbed with little licks of energy. It was nerve wracking if he was being honest and the temptation to just snatch it was ever present in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t risk fracturing the efforts over the last few days and having Garrett furious and hiding from him. He was out of time.

He reached out slowly, easing the leather into his thumb and forefinger. His pinky and ring finger stretched to continue the gentle strokes up along his jaw, distracting Garrett’s senses with the easy mind numbing motions. It was incredibly slow going as he pulled the leather cord loose of its knot, carefully working the tension free and trying not to apply too much pressure. Sweat beaded at the nape of his neck as he concentrated, pausing every now and then to ensure the subtle sighs and shifts didn't lead to opened eyes. Several minutes passed by and the knot had slipped free of its fastening but Corvo's attention shifted to the now heavy weight pulling it down. He quickly juggled the relic to keep it from crashing against the wooden beam, mindful not to touch it directly as it softly pulsed in the air around them. It was far less noticeable now.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief and balanced his weight back up onto the beam, Blinking back towards the windowsill in a quick movement and placing the relic inside the lockbox, securing it shut. The audible click easing the strain of his thundering heart as he looked back at the thief. Now was the complicated part.

It took nearly an hour to rouse Garrett from his sleep and urge him to get dressed. The thief was reluctant to behave no matter how much pleading and compromising Corvo offered, even attempting to ply him with a fresh tin of dried fruits. Garrett remained stubborn and more interested in returning to his nap. He was grumpy when Corvo refused, earning a disgruntled hiss and a few displeased swats to the man's chest. It was hardly enough to cause any pain, only further irritating Corvo's rapidly dwindling patience. He ended up physically picking the thief up and carrying him to the bed down below, sitting him on the mattress with a huff and collecting his gear.

It was a fight all the way through just trying to get Garrett's gear on him. Partially because he was grouchy from being rudely woken up, but also, come to find out, his gear caused quite a bit of uncomfortable pressure on his newly forming feathers. Garrett squirmed, hissed and swiped at him throughout the entire ordeal, forcing the larger man to stop time if only to make some sort of headway in their plans. By the end of it, Garrett stood with arms crossed, glaring at the Royal Protector with a look that could possibly kill. His talons clicking against his biceps impatiently as if he was genuinely considering digging them in somewhere tender and very unpleasant. Corvo couldn't really blame him and met the death glare with a curt tug of his hood down over his eyes. He had pulled Garrett's mask up over his face, the faint hint of mint soap rising between them from Corvo's painstaking efforts to clean the blood from the thief's equipment. 

Garrett settled after that, grumbling mildly and flopping back down onto the bed. He stared at the boots that covered his feet and spit a hiss at Corvo as if scolding him for some reason or another. He rolled his eyes, ignoring the sounds and preparing for their departure. The next part would be less pleasant for the thief, but it was easier for Corvo in the long run. He gathered all of their necessary belongings into one large pack that he slung over his shoulders, most of it was Garrett's most immediate personal effects such as his equipment and additional clothes. There was other supplies courtesy of Basso such as food provisions, two additional blankets, and several other miscellaneous items.

He turned to the thief and returned the leather bracelet back onto his wrist before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Garrett made a confused sound low in his throat, blinking up at the man as he spoke softly. "It won't be long okay. We're going to get you some help, I promise." The conflicted crackle that emerged in Garrett's throat was cut short by a startled squawk. The sharp pinprick of pain twisting his features into a snarl, talons reaching out defensively to claw at the offending object but it was too late. Corvo held firmly, gripping Garrett's waist and pulling him close as the contents of a sleep dart spread throughout his system. The thief crumpled in his hold, so terribly fragile and light in his arms as he scooped him up. The hood was adjusted to better hide his feathers and Corvo folded Garrett's hands over his chest and wrapped him in his cloak so as not to stir any unnecessary attention both on their way to the ship and during their brief voyage.

  


* * *

The voyage was short, as expected. Only a couple days of drifting on the waves. As much as the boredom pained him of staying tucked inside his cabin, he didn’t have the luxury of leaving it for long, just brief spans to stretch his legs, talk idly with the crew and captain then return back to the darkened space. Garrett was sprawled across the small cot in his room, his cloak wrapped around him like a makeshift blanket to warm him through in the chilly ocean breeze that crept into the space. Corvo knew of the thief’s distaste for boats and water, and wondered if that same fear would surface in this form. With that concern in mind, he kept Garrett curled close to him, his larger form taking up most of the cot, one arm slung around the thief’s waist. His body heat shared between them with a thin blanket draped over their shoulders. 

The first time Garrett began to stir from the drugs, he was confused and still fighting the after effects of drowsiness. His eyes blinking sideways as he worked the blurriness from his vision. A strangled noise crept up in his throat, his body curled up closer to Corvo’s warm solid chest. His face pressed into the crook of his neck. Corvo welcomed the comfort, his free hand coming around to cup the back of Garrett’s head, fingers slipping behind the hood to comb through the feathers and hair that intermingled there.

He managed, after some time and effort on his own end, to coax Garrett upright and sitting in his lap. His body still draped close to his chest and a blanket wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Corvo eased the thief’s mask down and offered a piece of dried fruit from a tin in his pocket which was greedily accepted. Corvo noticed, with growing alarm, that Garrett’s tongue had turned black. He wasn’t sure if it happened before or after the removal of the relic, which dredged more worry to the forefront of his thoughts. If removing the relic didn’t stop the changes, he didn’t know what else could.

The impatient rumble in the smaller man’s chest urged Corvo through his thoughts if only to oblige the thief’s greedy hunger. He couldn’t necessarily say no after the ordeal he’d been through and he genuinely felt bad for drugging him without his consent. He was thankful enough that the resentment didn’t show now as Garrett snuggled into him and took food and water from his fingers. His talons softly clicking where his fingers fidgeted under the blanket. After taking his fill, Garrett was content to remain where he was curled. 

That is until the shouting above deck and the ship’s lazy off kilter roll startled him into a frantic outburst. It was a flash of movement that even Corvo had trouble following, the thief’s speed of reflexes never failed to amaze him, except this time it led to pain on his part. Talons digging into his thigh as he vaulted himself to the other side of the room in a burst of movement and a sharp snap of his cloak, tucking himself where shadows clung to the far wall, his nails dragging against the grain of the wood with pained terrified sounds warbling past his lips. Corvo grimaced through the burning in his leg where sharp claws tore at the fabric and skin, staining it dark streams of crimson.

“Garrett.” He spoke firmly, trying to steal the thief’s attention away from the corner. He watched with growing concern as Garrett’s head whipped around but it didn’t focus on Corvo, instead spying the door that led to the rest of the ship. He cursed under his breath as the thief darted, ducking beneath Corvo’s outreaching hands and slipping between his legs to seek freedom he wasn’t aware of. His heart leapt in his throat when the thief reached the door, talons digging at it in a frantic attempt to get out. The ache of overexertion was a fair warning on Corvo’s part, he couldn’t afford to stop time again without burning himself out completely and that would do him no good if Garrett didn’t calm down. Having no other choice on his part, he unleashed a sleep dart, digging into Garrett’s shoulder. A startled squawk burst from the thief’s lips, he hunched up against the door, letting out a pitiful whuff and a whimper before crumpling to the wood floor.

So began the tedious habit of keeping the thief asleep for a majority of the voyage. Corvo could manage feeding him when he started to stir from the drug, but before the effects would completely wear off, another dart would be used to sedate him. He remained curled up on the cot, blankets wrapped carefully around him as if to swaddle a slumbering child. Corvo sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes where sleeplessness was beginning to take a toll. He attempted to sleep, little short bursts tucked beside Garrett, his arms folded protectively around the thief to keep him close. When he’d start to wake, Corvo would stir and check on him. Sometimes the pain in his leg would keep him from losing himself to true restful sleep. The quick patch job he did himself would hold until they returned to Dunwall where he could afford letting his guard down a little.

* * *

Corvo had never been so happy to smell whale oil in his life. The stench of the refineries cresting over the sea breeze as the ship pulled into harbor. It was late in the evening, a storm earlier that morning had stalled some of their haste but they finally made it back. A boat awaited them and he piled into it with his sleeping prize tucked in the bench beside him. He ignored the driver’s sidelong looks and sank back into his seat with a sigh of relief. The pain in his leg was getting worse and he was too tired to care anymore. The heavy weight of his pack settled between his feet on the floor, vibrating softly as the boat started moving, heading towards the Tower.

It was well and thoroughly dark by the time they reached the docks, the cold nip of the air biting at his skin as he shifted stiffly from the boat back onto sturdy land. He moved his pack back onto his shoulders and scooped Garrett up into his arms, still a little off put by how light he was to hold. He tried to recall if the thief had always been this small or if that was something else to concern himself with.

He cut through the gardens and made for a side entrance secreted away with time. The guards patrolling paid him no mind, too focused on their own idle bickering and trying to warm their hands in the cold night air. From there, it was a short trip through the winding blue and gold clad halls towards his own private chambers, breathing a heavy sigh of relief in the familiar smell of home. The warmth of his room was a stark contrast to the nip of outside, shielded from the breeze off the water. He carefully deposited Garrett onto his bed, laying the thief out comfortably before turning to his next concern. He wasted little time in stoking a fire to warm the space, slipping out of the room to find one of the older maids that lingered in the halls this late, tending to the last dwindling needs of the Tower occupants. He sent her to fetch Sokolov and bring a meal up to his room. Despite his worries, he couldn’t continue to survive on tinned meat and dried fruit.

The meal arrived only shortly before Sokolov. The doctor looked as if he’d been dragged from his bed, his dark hair rumpled in every which direction and clothing only mildly in some sense of decency. His eyes narrowed on the Royal Protector as he entered, watching the maid briskly leave the tray of food on the desk before disappearing once more. The doctor’s attention shifted down towards the red stains that spread across Corvo’s pant leg.

“Causing trouble again I see, Lord Protector.” He clicked his tongue and adjusted the medical bag in his arms, setting it on the desk as he waved Corvo to take a seat in the adjacent chair. He had to peel back the blood soaked fabric, wincing as it bubbled back up to the surface but thankfully, the wounds weren’t too deep. A few stitches to ensure they healed shut properly and some antiseptic, and Sokolov had him bandaged up and ready to go.

“I assume this isn’t the only reason you’ve called me here.” The doctor turned, eyeing the bundled form on the bed. He raised a curious brow at the shape. Corvo could only assume he may have mistaken Garrett’s tiny figure for that of a child. He looked lost in the sheer size of the Lord Protector’s bed.

“He’s a close friend of mine.” Corvo answered quietly. “He’s been afflicted with…._ something.” _That seemed to catch the physician’s curiosity. A gesture of approval from Corvo and Sokolov wasted no time in closing the distance between him and the bed. Careful hands unwrapped the blankets that furled around Garrett’s form. At first glance, the thief may have simply looked sickly, another poor soul inflicted with some plague of disease but as the hood fell away and the blankets were removed, Corvo could see the moment Sokolov noticed his talons and feathers. 

“What-” The doctor’s words seemed to fail him as he tilted his head and pushed the tangled dark fabric of Garrett’s cloak aside. Gently, he scooped at his wrist and admired the long dark edges of the thief’s nails, noticing the dried blood on the tips. “So he’s the cause of your wounds.” It wasn’t a question but Corvo nodded nonetheless.

“He is frightened easily. I had to keep him sedated for most of the trip back to keep him calm.” He gestured at his leg dismissively. “The first time he got spooked on the ship.”

“I see.” The deep rumble was something akin to amusement. The doctor wasted little time to start undressing the gear from Garrett’s body, ushering Corvo’s assistance in working all the buckles and straps free. It wasn’t long afterwards that Sokolov directed him back to the chair to rest his leg. Giving in with a soft grumble, he settled on eating his meal while it was still warm, always watching the doctor in the corner of his eye as he inspected the feathers that had grown in along Garrett’s back and shoulders and the ones speckling his calves. The dark almost scaly quality of his feet where another set of claws had started to grow in. The little divots at the back of his ankles suggested he was starting to grow a spur there. Luckily nothing seemed to be progressing very quickly. At least not as rapidly as it had been when he was wearing the relic.

“Do you know what caused the affliction?” Sokolov asked after a long stretch of studious silence as he collected blood and feather samples, taking a very carefully removed scale from Garrett’s foot. The vial of blood, Corvo noticed with a sickening roll of his stomach, appeared nearly black, like the inky lines that spread across his body, a road map of change. Like blueprints for his transformation. Which was very likely what they were the longer he thought on it. 

“A Pagan Relic.” He answered simply, earning a frown from Sokolov. 

“More witchcraft then.” He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t suppose you brought it with you.” 

Corvo nodded towards the large pack he’d dropped in the corner. Sokolov’s gaze followed his and sighed. “Don’t touch it directly.” Corvo warned. “It was a void damned miracle I got it off of him in the first place. It repulses my own mark.”

“Interesting.” Corvo didn’t think so but he allowed Sokolov his inquiries and questions if it would hasten any help for Garrett. The doctor did all he could for now, collecting his samples and helping clean Garrett up from the trip. He was tucked into a clean linen nightshirt and a pair of loose trousers. The blankets pulled up around him and his head nestled into a pillow. Corvo's fingers twitched with the urge to smooth over his ruffled feathers but he kept to himself while company lingered. But when Sokolov left, he divulged himself in gently carding through Garrett's hair in slow stretches of motion.

It took a little more effort on his end to dress down and into something clean and comfortable. Even less time to stretch across the familiar expanse of his bed, curling Garrett against his chest in a protective hold. The softest wheeze of air rose in the thief's throat, a sigh of contentment before they both settled in.

* * *

Morning heralded more problems than he would like. His body was stiff and the pinching pull of a headache throbbed in the back of his head. The bright rays of sunlight drew a groan from his chest as he buried his face back into the pillows in blatant refusal to greet the morning. He flopped an arm over, stretching his shoulders and back in one fluid pull when something felt off. He froze, shifting on the mattress and feeling the subtle lack of added weight. His head tilted ever so slightly and found the space beside him was empty. He snapped up, his head swimming with the dizzying swirl of exhaustion catching up with him as he searched his chamber. His heart settled its rapid beat of alarm when it fell on the hunched form of the thief perched high on his bookshelf, one leg swaying beneath him in idle motion while he inspected the newest bauble he’d recovered from the Lord Protector’s belongings. 

Garrett’s attention had been smitten with his personal seal used for marking important documents. Now it rolled around in the thief’s grasp, his talons clicking with the smooth metal handle, marveling at the personalized design of his status. He was content to leave the thief to his own interest but that was quickly overruled when a firm but light knock came at his door. It wasn’t any of the maids by the sounds of it, and the soft shuffling was painfully familiar as the impatience of his very own daughter. Cursing the void under his breath, he threw himself off the bed, earning a crackle of alarm for his troubles as Garrett stilled. His head tilting uneasily, watching Corvo’s posture with close mismatched eyes. The eerie blue almost glowing in the faint shadows the thief had found in the corner of the ceiling. Corvo held a placating hand up to calm him. 

“Hold on.” He couldn’t tell which one he was talking to but the noise behind the door told him Emily heard him and was doing her best to maintain her composure after he’d been gone for so long. He shifted towards the door, one hand held out towards Garrett, his dark eyes flickering between the new problem at hand, wincing as he shuffled on his wounded leg. He parted the door just enough to peer through and see Emily standing thankfully alone. It appeared she’d escaped Callista’s tutoring session to sneak off and see him. If the storm hadn’t stalled them the day before, he would have made it back in time to have dinner with her the night before. The click of talons on metal made him grimace that maybe not. He couldn’t have left Garrett alone like that in a new and potentially terrifying place. 

“Dr. Sokolov said you’d been injured.” She kept her head held high, her eyes studying the scabbed over scratches on his face as if they’d been enough to answer that question. She stepped forward, her confusion as he remained firmly blocking the door with his body was only a brief flicker on her face. Corvo had to admit, he was impressed at the amount of self-control she had learned in such a short time. It took him far longer to learn neutrality when faced with the sneers and gossip of nobility. “Corvo?” She asked softly, her deep brown eyes drinking in his person once more, taking a good long hard look as if sussing out whatever other injuries he may be hiding. His heart ached at that.

He offered an apologetic smile to her, reaching through the gap and pausing, searching the halls for any wandering guards or wayward maids. Securing their privacy for the moment, he caressed her cheek, watching as she tilted into the touch ever so slightly. Her own small hands coming to cradle his. His chest filled with yearning, the urge to drag her in and hold her close. He denied that desire and spoke softly but quickly to her. “I need you to be as quiet as you can alright? Don’t make any sudden moves.”

“Corvo?” Her brows knitted together as he took her hand in his and gently guided her through the door, still blocking her view inside the room with his body. His attention flitted from her frown to over his shoulder, keeping an eye on Garrett where he was nestled on the bookshelf still.

“It’s alright. I want you to meet somebody.” He explained, keeping her close as he shut the door behind her. “Remember to be very quiet.”

“Corvo-” She started to protest but he hushed her softly, slowly shifting his body out of her view. He heard the gasp of surprise rush from her as her gaze fell on the figure up in the corner of the room. Garrett’s feathers rose up atop his head like hackles, his body hunkered down and seemingly fluffed up if the odd positioning of his clothes was anything to go by. The feathers peeking out from the hem of his trousers were bushier and more prominent. A wary set of mismatched eyes stared dead on, the low wheeze of breath drifting from his chest as his talons clicked in contemplation on the shelf wood. The personalized seal seemingly forgotten now.

“This is Garrett. He’s a friend of mine.” Corvo started to explain, moving between Emily and the book shelf. He held his arms out towards the thief, a gentle curl of fingers beckoning him down from his hiding place. “Come on. She won’t hurt you.” He soothed Garrett’s reluctant crackled breathes, his sideways eyelids blinking between the two before he hissed at Corvo with frustration. 

“Don’t be so grumpy.” Corvo scolded, watching the feathers smooth over atop his head as he shifted fitfully. Eventually after a few more coaxing waves, Garrett gave in and dropped off of the bookshelf into Corvo’s awaiting arms. He caught him easily, taken off guard by the sheer lightness that was the thief’s body. Like he were carrying Emily around instead of a grown man. He gently set Garrett down on his own two feet, steadying him before stepping away. 

Corvo beckoned Emily to his side but whatever fear or worry he had fretted may be present was overcome with the awestruck eyes, wide and curious. She shuffled eagerly at his side but held her excitement back with all the careful discipline she’d learned this last year and a half.

“Hello.” She gave a gentle wave to Garrett. The thief’s hands were tucked in front of him, the clicking of nervous talons fidgeting together as he shuffled in place, caught between the urge to run and hide, and to stay and inspect this new small intruder. “My name is Emily.” She reached a hand out slowly towards the thief, pausing to double check with Corvo. He gave a small nod of approval and turned his eyes to Garrett who considered the gesture with close scrutiny before accepting the hand. It was awkward as he clasped her small delicate fingers between his palms, mindful not to catch her with his talons. He dipped his head down with a short bob before retracting his touch altogether.

“I didn’t know you had friends.” She turned her teasing words back on the Lord Protector, earning a snort of amusement. A wheezy crackle left Garrett’s chest as if approving of the lighthearted jab.

“He’s a friend from the City. Remember the interesting thief I told you about?” He was certain Emily remembered the fantastical tales of a shadowy thief lurking in the night. She had bothered him for days to tell her more. He may have exaggerated several details along the way but she devoured them with all the gluttonous desire to listen as she did any other tales and stories of old he had to share. Her eyes widened in surprise, turning back on Garrett with renewed fascination. 

“You never told me he was part bird.” She finally blurted, twisting towards Corvo with an accusatory look.

“He wasn’t.” Corvo blanched. “This is…._ new. _” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and working the stiff muscle with his fingertips before giving up on its reluctance to unwind. “He’s been afflicted with a curse of some sorts.”

“So that’s why Dr. Sokolov was here last night.”

Corvo frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest with mild disapproval. “How do you know about that?” He knew he couldn’t stop her from snooping within her own Empire. If it wasn’t for her title as Empress, she’d make one hell of a spymaster when she grew up. Corvo knew he probably shouldn’t be as proud about that as he was, but damn societal expectations to the void, he was going to preen over his daughter’s accomplishments if he wanted to. The nobility can sit on a shrine for all he cared.

“I heard you came back and wanted to see you but I saw Dr. Sokolov entering your room and thought you’d been injured.” She folded her hands in front of her thoughtfully. “I wanted to see you this morning but Callista was adamant about my lessons.”

“That didn’t stop you from sneaking off again.” Corvo mused, earning a grin flashed towards him, mischievous and full of self-satisfied delight.

“I am getting rather good at it.” She preened. The hum of acknowledgment did little to hide the creeping smile on Corvo’s face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out a lot longer than I anticipated.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it so far! Don't forget to comment down below and tell me what you think.

Whatever fears or reservations Corvo may have had about Emily meeting Garrett had completely dissolved into a headache of frustration in trying to wrangle the two away from one another. Garrett was a bundle of energy once he'd gotten accustomed to Emily's presence and she only encouraged it more by bringing him stolen sweets and snacks she'd swiped from the kitchen. Currently, the thief was gorging himself on a candy apple she'd snuck past the maids and now they were seated on Corvo's bedroom floor. Emily's dress was rumpled up beneath her as he legs swayed back and forth while drawing on a clean sheet of paper. Her crayons working diligently away at whatever scenery she was attempting to depict.

Garrett had resorted to licking the sweet sticky juice off of his claws, warbling happily at the snack. Corvo had sat at his desk and watched over the pair with astonishment. He wasn't sure if it was a sign that Garrett was becoming more aware of his surroundings or that Emily, for her size and appearance, didn't hold the same level of threat as he had. Which was fair, considering Corvo's immense size compared to her tiny dainty figure. Sokolov had stopped by to check on his wounds and changed the bandages which turned into a standstill of wills when Garrett twisted into something wild and defensive, tucked behind Emily's tiny body.

It was something between amusing and pitiful to see him attempt (and fail at) hiding behind the smaller body. Emily took no offense to the gesture and stood between Garrett and Sokolov. For all her lack of size and stature, she stood like a sentinel before him, her arms outstretched as she stubbornly kept the doctor at a distance. Sokolov raised a brow but Corvo's withering expression prevented any questions and a quick dismissal maintained some semblance of civility in his already hectic day.

Corvo was impressed to say the least, in how well Emily had taken to the situation and in some way, cared for Garrett in the way she would for strays that wander up to the back kitchen entrance. She was gentle and soft spoken, easing any fears the thief may have towards his new and unusual surroundings. She brought him colorful ribbons when she had to leave and would return in the late evening, telling him stories that Corvo had once told her before curfew set in. Corvo took all of his meals in his chamber, Emily had protested but the realization that Garrett couldn't be left alone forced the matter into silence. With her being Empress, she still had duties and expectations to fulfill. The apologetic look he directed at her slowly pouting face was the best he could offer. A brief hug and a warm kiss pressed to her forehead to reassure her.

Her kindness was astounding, in a way that already rivaled Jessamine's and he could only beam with pride at that acknowledgement. She saw no wrong, even in a man distorted by an affliction that would, to many, be condemned as blasphemy. Any lesser man would have summoned the Overseers but Emily was just as eager to help in what small ways she could. 

In her absence, Corvo was met with the soft affectionate trills that reverberated from Garrett's chest. His eyes gleaming up at the Lord Protector, bright and almost feverish in their light. The soft blue glow was just as ethereal as it always had been. The white lines of scarring was unhindered by the black marks that bled along his jawline or the soft down feathers that ruffled around his ears and along his hair. Corvo reached a hand out, his palm turned towards Garrett's cheek but it was the thief that closed the distance, pressing into the familiar warmth that they had once relished in the quiet of the clocktower. The gentle petting motions combed back through his feathers. Corvo noted they were growing longer, coming in where his hair curled at the nape of his neck. The dark ridges of skin had sprouted black tufts that were firm at the base. More than a few times, Corvo's accidentally plucked them out with only the briefest wince from the thief.

He wasn't sure exactly how they were going to fix this, but he had to try. He refused to give up for Garrett's sake. But that also meant getting Garrett near Sokolov without one of them losing an eye.

Corvo had left his chamber more than once, stopping long enough to lock the door and ensure no maid or guard accidentally walked in on Garrett. His best chances to stretch his legs often came when Garrett slept in the afternoon light. His body sprawled across Corvo's bed, drinking in the warm rays of sunlight that poured in through the windows. He had visited the medical wing first, checking in on Sokolov's progress which turned out was just as slow as Corvo had anticipated. All he could figure out was that Garrett had taken the semblance of some type of Corvidae. Jokingly Corvo hinted at a Magpie which Sokolov had seriously considered, to his surprise. But the samples he had taken had yielded little actual results beyond that. They responded the same way any other bird's would. There was nothing uniquely magical about them.

But the relic, that was a different story. Sokolov had tested it on rats who came in contact with it and yielded that they were unaffected by its touch. It made them more flighty but that was about it. After taking the relic away from them, they settled into a normal routine once more, which could be expected for new items in an environment. The doctor couldn't find any active information on the relic and human tests were beyond what either were willing to do. It didn't react to any bones or charms when put within close proximity. Corvo on the other hand, felt the burning of his brand when he neared. It was as if the relic made his own magic wary or anxious. It pushed it away with refusal to exist in the same space. He assumed whatever forces created the relic wouldn't fair well against the Outsider's marked. Which was, honestly, fair. 

Given that the nature of the relic was Pagan, Sokolov could only assume it wouldn't harm any natural entities such as plants or animals. But strangely enough, people were fair game. Then again, people were something far from animal as far as Corvo was concerned. Animals held more compassion than most men he'd encountered in the last few years. They didn't turn on each other the way men often do.

Corvo left with more questions than answers which was honestly becoming a habit where Sokolov was concerned. Corvo had learned enough now to just leave well enough alone when it came to that man, and simply moved on to his next concern. He gathered a few of his most trusted spies and sent them out looking for information on witchcraft, curses and animal transformations. The small peculiar glances they gave him were all the thought his spies offered on the subject, accepting their missions quietly and disappearing into the night.

He returned to his chambers with a steadily increasing headache, partly from lack of sleep and more largely due to his encounter with the relic once more. It thrummed distantly at him as if calling his attention. He wondered if this was what lured Garrett in in the first place, the gentle hum, the song of whispered promises. The thief was never really able to resist a challenge or a uniquely valuable prize. He could only wonder what it had been like, upon grasping the relic. Did it satisfy some senseless urge? Was he scared? Was he aware of what was happening around him-_ to him? _ Was he still aware of that? It made his heart ache and twisted his insides up into something bitter and unpleasant. The cold chill that stretched in his limbs only encouraged the bone deep weariness that plagued him.

His eyes softened when he unlocked the door and found Garrett curled up in the blankets. There was a tin of sweet candies on the bedside table and a colorful drawing of a man flying like a bird. It didn't surprise him that Emily had snuck into his room to see the thief. The residual signs of their time spent together was apparent in the scattered crayons sitting on his desk and the empty tray that once held a warm meal. It looked like she'd brought the thief warm biscuits smeared with jam. The red dappled spreader and the crumbs on the plate were all the hints he needed to know. Her kindness knew no bounds and for that he was immensely grateful.

Corvo shucked off his coat and belt, sliding his boots off with a tired sigh and the heavy drag of his shoulders sinking. The days had felt longer than he was used to. His duties had lessened but his concerns only grew with the passing of time. Between Emily's safety and position as Empress and now Garrett's own complicated situation, it was a struggle to keep his head above water after the stretch of relief. He knew a simple life would never be his, the old routine he'd sunk low into over the years had been thoroughly uprooted when he'd lost Jessamine. He didn't envy those days though, the long dull hours sitting in court listening to the endless blathering of nobility and their trivial problems. He just wished that for once in his life he could actually get ahead of it all and know what he was doing without feeling so lost. Like sitting on a raft and waiting for the current to carry him away.

He folded himself into the bed, letting Garrett shift to curl close. The soft wheeze of breath that emitted from his chest was the only acknowledgement at his presence before the thief was back to a deep restful sleep. Corvo found himself chasing after the same, slinging an arm over Garrett's hips and pulling the blankets up higher around them. He listened to the calm steady breaths of the thief, relishing in his presence of simply _ existing _ even if that existence was inherently wrong. This was still Garrett and Corvo couldn't deny the relief that he felt in knowing he was still breathing under his fingers. The fear of loss still hung heavily on his shoulders, the endless terror of not knowing what will come about if the curse isn't stopped. It took all the energy he had left to push those daunting thoughts away, press a warm kiss to Garrett's forehead and breath in the soft mint fragrance that clung to the thief's form. He eased a breath of relief and let himself drift into the night like smoke from a chimney.

* * *

_ "Your life never ceases to amaze me." The words almost felt like a taunt when Corvo looked up. The shadowy eyes that glistened in the off color world around them were like polished onyx pearls. It was unsettling, even after all these years of facing the God in his shattered realm. The broken cobblestone that steadied beneath his feet was only a brief reprieve from the usual balancing act he'd have to climb to find the man. Today he lingered before him, curious as he always was. Studious gaze and disturbingly sharp teeth. _

_ "You find friends in unlikely places Corvo. A man more than wanted by an entire City, for crimes you'd once have condemned, now lies in your bed. A twisted creature from beyond all that is existence." _

_ Corvo let out a tired sigh, cursing any hopes he may have had for some semblance of restful sleep. "You're not very helpful, you know that?" He called bluntly, an observation that seemed to amuse the faux facade of a man who hovered ominously above him. The distant calls of great leviathans intruded upon their conversation were minor hindrances. _

_ "What happens in your world is of little concern for me. The effects that ripple out do little but amuse. You race around for answers you know not to find or even how to recognize were they to even fall before your eyes." He chided, his languid body swaying thoughtfully, vanishing in a burst of purple ash only to materialize beside him. Corvo hid his flinch of surprise well enough but the glint of a smile was there and he ignored it. _

_ "You know how to fix him then?" _

_ "Your thief, yes. The better question is, do you?" Corvo did his best to avoid snapping at the God, knowing little good would come from infuriating him. The bluntness of his words served only to confuse him but something formed an itch in the back of his mind, forcing him to reconsider. _

_ "Do I?" _

_ "That's for you to discover dear Corvo. Not for me." He hummed almost pleased with himself. It was a cold echo that signalled the end to their little meeting. _

* * *

When Corvo woke up, it was to feeling more tired than when he'd fallen asleep. He grumbled a few obscenities in the process and rolled over. He couldn't help the startled noise that broke in his chest. The slight jerk of his hand that moved defensively to an unseen weapon that he knew was not currently on his person. He stared up at the far too close set or mismatched eyes, almost unblinking for several moments before the disturbing slide of eyelids worked him out of his surprised stupor. Garrett was still stretched out beside him, his elbows posted under his body to keep him somewhat upright. He lacked the white linen shirt he'd been wearing the night before and instead was covered in even more feathers. It took Corvo a moment to realize that a lot of them had fallen off of his person and littered the bed as if the man were molting. 

"You keep losing them and I'll have enough to make a whole new pillow soon." Corvo prodded, a small attempt at salvaging the moment away from whatever concerns could rear their head. Garrett seemed to frown at that, letting out a chuff of disapproval. The sound was half hearted enough to alleviate any worries. He let his head fall back into the pillow and sighed, twisting his body to face Garrett as he resumed whatever he was doing. Which quickly became apparent, that he was plucking himself. He would wince as he went, removing the feathers that had started to form along his arms now, leaving the soft down layer and aiming for the larger more rigid feathers that got in the way of his clothing.

Corvo could tell it was causing him pain with every one removed, a few of the tips had been glossy black with blood as he tossed them aside with reckless abandon. His eyes narrowed and calculating. His breath even as he prepared for the prickling pull of pain. Something about it made Corvo sick to watch, causing him to reach out and seize Garrett's wrists. The thief froze in alarm, letting out a wary disgruntled hiss at the man.

"Don't." Corvo leveled his voice, softening it when Garrett flinched. He sighed, the hard edges of his expression relaxed as he tried again. "If it hurts, don't do it."

Garrett's talons clicked anxiously together in his grasp. His large hands enveloped his tiny fragile wrists. Corvo winced at the bruises his grip was starting to cause and withdrew suddenly. "I'm sorry." His thumb caught gently on the leather bracelet still firmly buckled in place, the soft light of the morning catching the polished glass and spreading patches of blues and greens across the white bedding. Corvo lowered his gaze to admire the refracted light and how it danced on the dark ebony frills of the abandoned feathers, reviving the colors beneath. The darker greens and blues that spread across Garrett's feathers in the light, shifting whenever he moved.

Corvo noticed now, nearly his whole upper back and shoulders were covered in the layering of feathers. The lower areas were blanketed in the soft grey down that stretched at the dip and curved around his hips. Patches of grey or pale skin peeked through where old scars dissected the progress. He had more feathers coming on over his shoulders and down his neck, each in various states of length and sturdiness. His upper chest was still a pale expanse of human flesh, toned muscles from years of hard work pulling himself along with his arms alone. The feathers spanned down his biceps and started in smaller patches, to spread to his forearms cresting around his elbows.

Corvo rested his palm against Garrett's lower back, unable to help himself as he stroked through the soft feathers. The thief seemed only mildly annoyed at his choice of location but after a few minutes, he settled his face against his stolen pillow and started a soft warble of appreciation. Corvo smiled softly to himself, letting the monotonous motion sooth them both in their hour of distress. Corvo managed to snag Garrett back into a bundle of blankets for a couple more hours of sleep before work became a must and their grumbling bellies demanded some form of sustenance.

* * *

Corvo was beginning to hate being right. He stared at the rather large problem at hand with an exasperated sigh. His attempt to get Garrett and Sokolov in the same room hadn't quite ended in bloodshed but the Lord Protector himself had nearly lost a limb trying to wrangle in Garrett's ire. The doctor, for all his experiences and Corvo's relief, remained stoically firm by the door while things were handled. He had quietly offered a sedative to calm Garrett down but Corvo bluntly pointed out that that negated the whole purpose of this situation. He was trying to keep Garrett as lucid and aware as possible with some small hope that it would help in the long run. Besides, he didn't want Garrett to start associating attempts at help with negative situations of being drugged. He wanted the man to be able to openly accept offered assistance without fear.

Corvo loosened his wary grip on the thief, his hand smoothing over Garrett's feathers in slow cautious sweeps. The thief was tense and quivering beneath his touch, his breathing flared in sharp wheezes as eyes narrowed on the doctor. Sokolov remained put until told otherwise which Corvo was immensely grateful for. If anything, he appeared fascinated at their interaction or maybe just Garrett's reaction. It was hard to tell knowing Sokolov.

Corvo held firm, his hands working a suitable enough distraction to Garrett's senses, urging his attention back on him. The mismatched eyes blinked up, a confused frown knitting his brows together. Corvo's hand snagged a stray strand of dark hair out of Garrett's face and tucked it behind one of his many raised feathers. His body had fluffed up, apparently a threat display of avian proportions but to Corvo he just looked fluffy and the urge to pet them all down was undeniable. Garrett seemed to relent and give in to Corvo's hands working all of his feathers flat in long drags of warm palms and soft hushed words murmured into his ears. Eventually he coaxed Garrett to take a couple steps back and rest on the edge of the bed. While keeping one arm wrapped around the thief's waist, he slowly called Sokolov over.

"This is Doctor Sokolov." Corvo began, gesturing to the man as he stopped a few feet away, maintaining a wide berth for now. He tipped his head in greeting, shifting his medical bag from one hand to the other. "He is a friend." Corvo stressed the last word for Garrett, earning a few quiet blinks at that.

Corvo sighed. "He wants to help." That earned a disgruntled hiss from the thief, his talons clicking together in an unpleasant preparation to attack. "Garrett." Corvo called firmly, the thief flinched beneath his voice and tucked his hands closer to his chest, his fingers curled inwards. It was as close to disarmed as Corvo was going to get with the smaller man he supposed. He smoothed the rumpled feathers over that started to stand on end again around his ears and atop his head, softly clicking his tongue as if to chastise him for it. Garrett warbled softly, leaning against Corvo's side to shelter himself under the Lord Protector's strong arm. Corvo welcomed the action and waved Sokolov closer. The doctor lowered himself to eye level before Garrett, making himself as less of a threat as he could possibly muster.

Garrett stiffened, eyeing him warily as he did so. Corvo brushed his fingers along Garrett's shoulders, fanning down his feathers and giving them gentle nudges to garner his attention away from whatever fears he was harboring. "Sokolov won't hurt you." He promised softly.

"It's a pleasure to properly meet you Mister Garrett." Sokolov greeted in that low gravelly voice, his attention fixed on the thief when he noticed the reluctant nod of his head. He raised a brow, glancing towards Corvo before returning his attention to the man. His bag was set aside for the time being, instead the doctor was more concerned with the rapid growth of Garrett's feathers. He asked Corvo several questions on the matter, inspecting the ones Garrett had been plucking earlier in the day and, with some careful coaxing, was able to examine the areas where they'd been plucked from. He cleaned away the dried blood with a damp rag and examined Garrett's talons, blackened tongue and his eyes where the new sideways lid had formed. He inspected the discoloration of his feet where the scales texture had spread to their entirety and his nails were longer. A few quick trims kept them from tearing Corvo's bedding to shreds. Garrett didn't seem bothered by the impromptu grooming and appeared to relax more as time went by. It may have had something to do with Corvo's continuous petting motions or maybe Garrett was finally figuring out that Sokolov was no threat to him.

"Does he show signs of retained information from before his affliction?" Sokolov asked after a long stint of speculative silence. 

"He still steals things if that's what you're asking." Corvo answered bluntly, pointing at the little hoard of trinkets and baubles Garrett was collecting from around Corvo's room and suspiciously from other places as well. Though he assumed Emily was fueling that behavior by bringing him like minded gifts.

"Does he show an awareness of himself?"

"How so?" Corvo was confused, turning his gaze from Garrett's relaxed posture against his side back towards the doctor. He wasn't entirely sure how to answer that.

"Is he…" Sokolov paused as if searching for the easiest way to explain this to someone who wasn't raised on philosophical jargon. "_ aware _ that something is wrong with himself?"

"He was plucking his own feathers out this morning." He nodded towards the collected pile stuffed into a sack. It took Corvo nearly twenty minutes to gather them all up and he honestly wondered how long Garrett had been at it and how in the void he wasn't bald by now. "He looked _ determined _ and wasn't very happy when I told him to stop."

Sokolov hummed thoughtfully, taking in Garrett's person once more. His fingers curling around his grizzled bearded jaw as he sat back on where he knelt. "Any other similar behavior you've noticed?"

"Not really anything out of the usual. He steals from my pockets still, he fusses with his gear even though he can't wear it as he is now." He nodded at the feathers down Garrett's back and was well aware of the discomfort his leathers caused when he attempted to put them on. The thief couldn't even wear a normal shirt without the same problem rising, even one of Corvo's own which easily swallowed Garrett up. His feathers still caught and tangled up in the bunched fabric and left him shifting awkwardly on the bed. "Not much has changed from how he was, except he can't stand shiny objects anymore."

"Birds are often frightened by things that shine or shimmer. I believe it has to do with how their eyes perceive it." Sokolov prompted an answer. "Without records of previous cases, there isn't much I can go on." He finally admitted after a long period of deliberation. 

"I'm working on it." Corvo spoke firmly, reminded of his network of spies out rummaging through every bit of information they could find. After the first few days of no leads, he risked sending them in search of the answers in the Overseer's library. He had more than enough confidence that they could handle the task and with some small hope that with all their encounters in witchcraft, the Overseers had some record of a similar happenstance. Even if it wasn't bird related.

"Not to be presumptuous but have you tried talking with him? Like actually communicating?" Sokolov offered. "Does he recall how to read and write?"

The thought actually hadn't occurred to Corvo now that he mentioned it. He just assumed a loss with Garrett's lack of voice but the thief was a well educated man and if that part remained, maybe he could manage a line of communication. A noise of approval seemed to trill in Garrett's throat, turning his newly rediscovered attention back on the doctor. Sokolov seemed just as curious and before long, all three of them were at Corvo's desk with a pen and paper laid out. 

Given Garrett's talons, it took a lot of trial and error in the thief being able to properly hold a pen and still be able to write even slightly legible. His letters were big, assorted sizes of jagged lines and slanted shapes. He couldn't write along a straight line no matter how hard he tried and his sentences curved along the page in odd drops of space. His head twisted and tilted as he went, scratching out words in ink. For an easy enough start, Sokolov simply asked him to write his name. It would draw the least amount of effort from him mentally and didn't require complicated thought. It was a long laborious task for Garrett, his talons cramping with the unusual hold causing him to take momentary breaks to flex his fingers but he managed to write his name.

_ My name is Garrett _

The rushing sense of relief was a warm swell inside Corvo's chest with the simplest of statements. He gently rubbed an approving hand over the thief's shoulders, watching him massage his sore hand. He didn't want to push him too far if writing was a complicated task but he resorted to asking Garrett small minor questions throughout the day when he was willing to answer them, a pen and paper always at the ready and ample breaks for his hands in between.

He discovered Garrett does in fact remember Corvo and their past history. His answers were always slow, his face twisted up into intense focus as if pulling the information through a haze. He would pause often and struggle through the words he was trying to remember how to write but eventually he would get there. Little bits of memories spilled onto pages, how they met, how their relationship had formed. Garrett also remembered Basso and Erin, their falling out in the past and the loss he had suffered when the Primal happened. Bits and pieces of a greater puzzle clicking together in his mind as if he were recovering parts of himself the more Corvo questioned its stability. Corvo also discovered Garrett's distaste for his feathers and why he kept plucking himself. Corvo had to admit, he understood the desire to rid oneself of something they are not, but Corvo was afraid it would only cause further irreparable harm. Garrett relented but that didn't stop Corvo from catching him stealthily removing a few that strayed or broke from his lollygagging.

He was also met with the odd accusatory looks as Garrett held up a sheet with an unprompted message on it. 

_ YOU DRUGGED ME YOU TAFFER! _

Well, he figured he'd have to face the firing squad for that one. He was just pleased to see Garrett's enthusiasm for snide remarks was returning. 

"And you clawed me numerous times. I'd say we're on fair ground now." He gestured at the healing scar on his cheek and the still sore wound on his leg. Garrett scowled at him, feathers ruffled up in displeasure. "Would you rather I left you awake for the entirety of the boat ride?"

That seemed to soothe whatever unpleasant feelings Garrett had about the ordeal. He simmered down, offering only a brief huff of frustration as he pushed his paper and pen back on the nightstand. Corvo was stretched across the bed reading over the most recent reports from his spies, most of which once again, yielded little of use. He sighed, pushing his own work aside and settled back against the headboard.

"I'm trying my best here." He offered after a long trail of silence. There was a soft wheezy breath as Garrett rolled over to face him. It was almost reluctant but the look in his eyes showed the conflict Garrett was wading through. He couldn’t blame the thief for feeling off put by everything around him, especially when most things he lacked a say in. When he picked up that relic, he lost his freedom along with himself, as well as his home and his trade. For a man who once had everything at the ends of his fingers, that was a deadly blow to his pride and his psyche to lose it all in one go. If anyone knew that better, it was Corvo. This wasn’t Coldridge all over again, but it was pretty damn close to it.

“I’m not going to stop until we figure something out.” He said firmly, reaching a hand out towards Garrett. The thief seemed to relinquish his hesitance and shuffle closer, accepting the familiar hold of strong arms. They stayed like that in silence, the sound of their hearts beating together and the soft patter of rain that felt, ticking against the windows in gentle showers. Corvo’s thoughts drifted slowly over everything they had discovered these last couple weeks and one thought nagged at the forefront. Something he had considered before but could never quite understand.

“Garrett.” He murmured, looking down at the thief. He half expected to find him asleep against his chest but was met with the soft trill of acknowledgment. His head tilted just enough for mismatched eyes to blink oddly at him. “Can I ask you something?” There was a slow nod.

Corvo chewed on his lip, considering how to phrase this question without it coming off insensitive. He didn’t know if it would be too much for Garrett but he was going to give it a try. “What’s it like?” He gestured at him. “What’s it feel like?”

Garrett stilled beneath Corvo’s gentle hands, an emotion the Lord Protector couldn’t quite decipher flitted across his face but it was quick and gone before he even realized it. Garrett carefully pushed himself upright and reached for the pen and paper. A book balanced beneath it as a source of sturdy surface as he scratched ink into the parchment. After a few patient minutes and several long thoughtful pauses, Garrett turned the paper towards him.

_ Instinct overcomes logic _

Well that made a bit more sense now that he thought about it. If he was becoming bird like, and he wasn’t a naturally aggressive person to begin with and neither was the species he’d taken the shape of, then his previous actions were running on pure animalistic instinct. Fear and flight were all he had to work with. When he couldn’t do the latter, he would be forced to attack like any other frightened creature would. He _ knew _Corvo would never hurt him, but bird brain logic was no match for basic instinct when something very big and loud comes towards it.

Corvo hadn’t noticed when Garrett started writing again until he held up the paper.

_ It tries to take me but I won’t let it _

“What do you mean?” Corvo frowned, inspecting Garrett with a curious eye now. Was there something he had missed? He watched as the thief paused in his efforts, massaging his hand and flexing his talons, the pen resting on the paper. His brows knitted in concentration as he considered how to answer that. He eventually pointed at his right eye, the eerie blue glow a stark contrast to the pale almost grey tone of his skin now. 

“The Primal?” Garrett nodded then pointed at his feathers, gesturing towards the new sets that had grown in before Garrett had promptly plucked them out. No new feathers had replaced them since which Corvo thought to be a good sign.

“The Primal stops it?” Garrett paused, gave a subtle shake. It wasn’t quite right. Corvo thought on it, his eyes were drawn to his own mark thoughtfully before he remembered the pain it caused him when he neared the relic. His eyes widened. 

“You’re using the Primal against it?” Corvo was met with a squawk of approval. It was then that something clicked in the back of his mind. His dark eyes focusing on Garrett more closely now. His mind racing with ideas as he jumped from his bed in a flurry of motion, grabbing his jacket and boots. Garrett balked in a scramble of motion, watching Corvo with confusion. 

“Sorry. I’ll be right back. Stay here!” He spoke quickly, pulling his sword back onto his belt and rushed out into the hallway. He managed to stop long enough to lock the door behind himself before disappearing into the labyrinth of halls.


	5. Chapter 5

“We’ve been looking for the wrong information!” Corvo blurted, pacing back and forth in Sokolov’s office with a manic sort of excitement. The doctor was beyond confused when the Lord Protector had barged in with a flurry of delight and a grin that would have spelled trouble were it on anybody else’s face. 

“What are you on about?” He balked, eyeing the man over with suspicion. His dark eyes following him back and forth from behind his desk where he had been finishing his latest experiment notes. His pen was half forgotten in his hand as he watched after the larger man.

Corvo whirled quickly, stalking towards Sokolov’s desk and flattening his palms against the wood. The man looked borderline hysterical, causing the physician to wonder if the stress and exhaustion finally made him snap. Corvo ignored the strange look as he started. “We were looking for records of slow progressing transformations.” Sokolov nodded slowly at that, setting his pen down and folding his arms over his chest now. He leaned back in his seat, interest piqued for the moment. 

“The relic’s curse isn’t meant to take so long.” He gestured wildly. “Garrett is stopping its progress himself.” Sokolov’s eyes widened. The man sat bolt upright, as Corvo continued. “The previous owner of the relic disappeared mysteriously around the same time they procured the item. They were thought dead but if my hunch is correct, they were turned into an animal of sorts soon after coming in contact with it.” He started to explain rapidly. 

“But why then is Mister Garrett the only one to last so long?” Sokolov poked, standing up now, leaning against his desk with a startled expression. Corvo backed away, taking a breath in to settle his thrill of _ finally _catching a break in all this. 

“He has a power that’s like my mark only its a piece of something called the Primal. It’s in his right eye.” He gestured to his own face half-heartedly. The look on Sokolov’s face told Corvo the man had thought the strange eerie glow had to do with the curse itself and not some other source. “Garrett has been using the Primal’s power to slow the curse’s spread somehow.”

Corvo stepped away from the desk and turned to examine the relic with a disgusted look. “Without the Primal, it would have been just another example of traditional witchcraft.”

A string of obscenities tumbled from Sokolov’s lips, barely a breath but it stirred him into action just the same. The doctor rummaged through his notes and examined what reports they had so far on similar incidences. “You said when you first found him he suffered from nose bleeds and black lines?”

Corvo nodded, following after the Doctor to see what exactly he was looking through. “It almost looked like a poisoning.”

“In a sense, that may have been what it was. His body was trying to purge the curse from itself.” The doctor started. “The bleeding may have stopped when the curse’s progress either slowed or he wore himself out. It’s hard to tell.”

“We just need to figure out what the ritual is and break it somehow.” Corvo offered, the hope alight in his eyes as Sokolov considered it. The man seemed reluctant to agree outright, his eyes focused on the notes before him as he scratched his jaw. A unique sort of scrutiny leveled within them.

“Let’s hope it’s as easy as that. If this curse had differed from the intended outcome, then breaking it may have varying effects.”

“We have to try something.” Corvo pressed more sternly. His eyes narrowed on the doctor as Sokolov gave a dismissive wave. 

“I need some time to figure it out. Those notes you sent your spies to gather will come in handy.” Corvo nodded, lingering a pause more as the man delved back into his work with a renewed focus. Feeling satisfied, he turned to leave.

  


* * *

  


For the Royal Protector and Spymaster, Corvo was blind. He didn’t notice it at first, had thought it just sentimental fussing on Garrett’s part but by the void he was blinder than Granny Rags. It happened a few days after he’d set Sokolov on his task and his spies had brought back what they could from the Overseer’s archives. He’d been busy for a majority of the day, Emily was whisked away by her duties and in doing so, Corvo had been dragged to stand at her side during a long series of court related conversations that involved the complaints of the nobility. He had slowly, over the last few days, started to resume his post by Emily’s side. Her guard hadn’t lessened of course, he was split between numerous tasks at the same time and would be called away throughout the course of the day. It was somewhat of a relief if he was being honest, returning to a familiar environment even if the yammering nobility made him want to beat his head against the wall. 

There were a few small glimpses of gossip that had spread through the cluster, two noble women muttering softly about rumors. It wouldn’t have snagged his interest usually, he didn’t want to know the ins and outs of the nobles and their private lives, or apparent lack thereof if everyone in the upper class knew about it. It was the little details that stole his attention. He was mindful of the carefully formed neutrality in his expression as he eavesdropped. His fingers clenching idly at his side, his gaze fixed on the center hall but his head tilted ever so slightly to strain for more. 

“-you hear about the creature spotted by Draper’s Ward?”

“A creature?’

“Yes.” The first woman affirmed with a bob of her head. Her expensive jewelry bobbing with the motion, her hair wobbled in its careful updo as if threatening to topple forward were it not for the numerous pins keeping it in place. “A bird like creature has been spotted climbing the rooftops in the evenings.”

“Preposterous!” The second woman hissed. The first shushed her quickly, one hand held over her mouth as if to somehow hide their little talks. 

“Pardon me but it’s true.” A younger man who had also been listening in now inserted himself. “The dockhands have seen it. Big, black and trailing feathers in its wake.”

“Oh my!” The woman gasped.

A cold sick feeling twisted up inside his stomach and it only increased as the day continued on. More than a few nobility had been talking of the strange mysterious bird creature. Their stories growing more outlandish than the last. Some talked about the creature having wings like a bat, snapping into the air as it scaled the walls. Others mentioned long jagged scratch marks etched into stone work where its claws dug in. Some said they saw it stealing a child from an open window and others mentioned it gorged itself on a swarm of rats. All of which Corvo would call bullshit.

When he was finally relieved of his duties with the look of concern on Emily’s small face, Corvo knew she’d heard the same but didn’t let it show. She was such a smart and strong girl. He resisted the urge to praise her, acknowledging their company of guards still. He bowed deeply and excused himself back to his quarters.

He was greeted with a puzzling scene. Garrett was perched in the center of the bed, his legs folded in front of him and his pouches emptied and scattered about the bedding with numerous trinkets, baubles and even stolen food. Garrett was nibbling on a large sweet roll, tearing pieces away and chewing on the sweet frosted pastry seemingly still warm from wherever he stole it from, while picking through his newly acquired treasures. Corvo paused, stared at the man still wrapped in his cloak and an altered pair of trousers he had seen Garrett mending several days prior. The leather belts had been removed when he took off his pouches and his quiver and bow were set aside for now. It didn’t take much for the Lord Protector to piece it all together and then a sharp twist of fear and fury welled up inside him.

“What were you thinking?” Corvo’s tone was a cold snap of leashed fury, his anger boiling up underneath as he strode towards the bed. His hands balled into tight fists at his sides, the firm stance and stiffness in his shoulders caused for a rather intimidating shadow to fall over Garrett’s startled figure. He jolted in place, nearly dropping the piece of pastry leading up to his mouth in the process. He turned with wide eyes, head whipping around to stare up at Corvo. His own body coiled tight with preparation to flee. His hackles rose, feathers standing on end with a disgruntled hiss. 

“The entire court is talking about you.” Corvo growled low, his eyes darkened and jaw clenched tight. It took every ounce of self control he had not to act on the raw emotions stirring inside him. He knew better than to let it out, knew it would get them nowhere but the terror still stuck deep in his chest, a cold lance through his heart that stuttered his breath as he continued. “The infamous bird creature stealing into the night. People have _ seen _you!”

Garrett coiled back, his feet tucked underneath his body as he edged off of the mattress and placed space between them. His talons collecting his pouches in quick succession and slipping them back onto the belts. When the thief moved to retrieve one of his trinkets, Corvo’s hand struck out, snatching at his wrist as he hissed. 

“Listen to me!” The Lord Protector pulled, half dragging the thief across the bed as he rounded it. Garrett squirmed in his grasp, mismatched eyes wide and frantic as he pulled for freedom. “If the Overseers catch you-if they see you _ coming back here-” _ His voice trailed before reaffirming the painful swell that threatened to choke him. He swallowed it down and forced the words through. “That will cause trouble not just for me but for Emily!”

Garrett twisted in Corvo’s grasp, releasing his wrist when his struggles were futile and turning instead to strike at the Lord Protector. Corvo captured his other hand but not before his talons glimpsed his jaw leaving a streak of red bubbling up and pooling in small droplets. Corvo hissed under his breath, twisting them both around and throwing Garrett back onto the bed. The thief used the momentum to roll over it, tumbling off the edge and landing in a crouch. His figure disappeared below, causing Corvo to startle, waiting for the smaller man to make himself known. He wasn’t expecting the prickle of pain that shot up his leg, stumbling away from the edge as his knee dipped to the ground. The pull of a muscle burned up his thigh, the painful twinge where Garrett had pinpointed the nerve took him off guard as the thief crawled out from beneath the frame, scooping up his bow and quiver in a brisk escape out the window. His treasures and provisions forgotten as he vanished with an ear piercing screech and a shadowy snap of his cloak in the stormy night air.

By the time he recovered, his leg was stiff under his control, dragging in a stilted limp as he moved towards the window but whatever chances he had of spotting Garrett were thwarted by the darkness that fell over the city. He cursed loudly, fist hitting the frame as he relished the pain that ebbed up his hand. He curled his fingers tightly, flexing them through the shocks that lingered. He couldn’t blame the thief for fleeing. He had nobody but himself to curse into the night as he pulled the window shut and let the silence drag on. The weight of his own words hanging heavily on his shoulders, threatening to shatter him all at once.

  


* * *

  


The Whalers were a well informed bunch when it came to the troubles, gossip and rumors of Dunwall and all the politics that lay scattered beneath it. So when talk of a bird creature running amok through the city started to become common conversation among both the nobility and the common folk, it was something that piqued their interest. If only to serve as a good passer for time. The rumors had been spreading like wildfire over the course of a week, with witnesses ranging from dockhands to noble families to the city Watch. It was enough to even draw out the Overseer’s attention causing a rather large scene in Draper’s Ward by the end of the week.

It was the very early hours of morning when the Whalers were doing the usual patrol, spreading out to gather information from nearby informants and checking in on a few supply runs along the way when the sound of citizens scrambling and shouting stole their attention. They managed to make their way to the outer edges of the market, watching the early hustle and bustle scatter into chaos as the Watch swarmed in on the lone figure of black standing atop the pipework along the riverfront. The market was busy for the hour and the Whaler’s were curious enough to linger just out of view.

It seemed so were much of the civilians who lingered on the edges, caught between twisted looks of horror and staggered awe. The creature had apparently helped itself to a vendor selling fresh fruits, filling what appeared to be pouches on its waist with the juicy morsels, pausing to take a bite from a lone apple while it rummaged through, ignoring the shouts of the Watch. A well calculated leap narrowly avoided a bullet to the side as the creature pounced and clambered almost playfully, taunting the Watch with a lack of care for the danger they offered.

Frustration ignited among the guards as they became targets for backlash, in the form of fish being thrown at their heads and faces. One guard was unlucky enough to take a hagfish to the side of his head and stumbled back with a cry of combined surprise and pain. The myriad of barely concealed laughter peeled out of the cluster of Whalers as they watched in growing amusement, bodies tucked close to the rooftops to stay hidden. The creature returned to the pipes, avoiding the wolfhounds that bayed eagerly below. The glimpse of golden masks emerged quickly into the streets, the Watch dispersed behind them as a pair of Overseer’s joined the fight. Their voices reaching high into the air as they preached Strictures and played their accursed music boxes. The Whalers winced, slowly backing away in silence, certain this fight was over. Their surprise came in a well aimed half eaten apple being chucked at the first Overseer’s face. The creature squawked dismissively at them, ignoring their music and stalking away over the rooftops.

The Watch spread out, a broken attempt at pursuit that was quickly lost when the creature vanished with the early fog pulled in off the river. The Whalers were dumbstruck, staring after the figure and considering what exactly to report back to Daud. The assassin was skeptical when they did return, the murmurs of this new unknown creature had spread across the Flooded District aided by the realization that said creature was unhindered by the Overseers. Their fury had lashed out, mortified and humiliated as the nobility chattered on about how useless the Abbey was in facing the problem.

Daud assumed whatever void hole this bird creature had crawled out of, it had to have something to do with the black eyed bastard. As long as it focused its attention on the Overseers, it was little concern for him and his Whalers. That is, until a few days later they caught sight of it sneaking in and out of houses with pouches stuffed full of stolen goods. The Whalers were wary but amused by the creature, catching rare glimpses of feathers and talons as they rifled through the collection of treasures, wrapped up in its cloak to ward off the cold chill of the night air. It seemed unbothered by the openness of the rooftop so the Whalers waited, watching it closely as it preened over its belongings before tucking it all back away.

It hadn’t gone far after that, slipping inside one of the old abandoned apartment buildings on the edge of the Flooded District, finding comfort in a small room at the very top where it appeared to have made a nest of sorts. They took turns keeping an eye on the creature, watching with a mixture of fascination and mild horror as the next day passed by. 

They figured out that it was going through the surrounding buildings in calculated sweeps, sneaking in and out with expert stealth that, were the Whaler’s not already aware of its presence, would have easily overlooked or completely missed it. It stole with no remorse, took whatever seemed to set its fancy and disappeared through windows, holes in the roof, broken doorways, whatever way it could. It was hard to keep track of it, two pairs of Whalers were forced to circle the buildings to gauge where exactly it would crawl up out of.

It was Julian who had been caught off guard by it first. A whisper of void ash danced around him as he blinked to the rooftop, his eyes fixed on the window across from him. Rulfio was on the adjacent roof, waiting quietly for the creature to leave. Minutes ticked by slowly without any sign of movement. A shifting sensation prickled the back of his neck as time passed and there wasn’t even a sound of movement inside the creaky old building. His concerns were stressed to Rulfio with a quick motion of hand signals. The other Whaler appeared to agree but they were startled when something hit the rooftop from behind Julian, a jarring sound of skittering metal. He barely had enough time to jump to his feet when the object exploded with a blast of bright light. There was a delayed moment of realization that it was a flash bomb. 

Rulfio caught a shadow of movement as the creature fled, apparently well aware of their presence trailing it. The other two Whalers fell into pursuit, blinking quickly after it but the creature had descended to ground level with a cast of rope and plummeted as if it could fly. It became apparent that they'd lost it several minutes later. A few broken black feathers lay in its wake, the only sign it had even been there to begin with. They regrouped and headed back to the Flooded District, keeping patrols tight and wary after that.

It was two nights later that the next patrol noticed the creature’s movements. It was, surprisingly enough, riding the rail line into the Flooded District. It perched carefully on the rail car, unbothered by the electrical current that jolted through it. It disembarked easily enough, working from the train station deeper in with the help of what they assumed to be a grappling hook like tool now. A corset of leather was wrapped around its torso, a length of rope gathered at the hip as it climbed and explored just as it had done in the previous districts. The Whalers were cautious, trailing behind it with a sense of curiosity and wariness. Their hands always at the ready to attack, wrist bows prepped with sleep darts should it cause any sort of trouble.

They lost it halfway through the courtyard. It melted into shadows and disappeared from view, reappearing half an hour later on the catwalks where it gawked at the intricately laid highway of recycled metal traveling between buildings. It crouched down, inspecting the interlocking metal pieces for stability before rising, body hunched, stepping in a languid crouch. The shadows molding around its figure as it inched along. 

Rulfio took the initiative and blinked behind it. The creature whirled with a startled hiss, another flash bomb prepared to strike the ground but the Whaler countered, gripping the creature’s wrist to stop the throw. Long sharp talons struck out, forcing him to let go. It whirled around, lost its balance on the edge of the catwalk where the metal had grown slippery with frost. It swayed, mismatched eyes widening, an eerie blue swirl of light emitted from its right eye as it dropped like a dead weight to the flood below.

Thomas blinked to his side, watching the creature struggle in the water, terrified screeches warbled into the night air as it twisted and turned, sinking into the cold chill. “For a bird, it doesn’t fly very well.” Thomas offered blankly, staring after it as it sank below the surface with a gurgling rasp.

“Should we- should we help it?” Rulfio’s concern could be heard through the muffled metal of his mask. 

“The hounds are already on it.” Thomas pointed out, watching the dark grey body tread through the water and pull the creature back up to the surface by its cloak. It dragged the bird like figure to a set of stairs where its handler waited patiently crouched. Two other Whalers joined them and helped haul the thing from the dark murky flood. It shivered and squawked weakly, arms tucked around itself with heavy wheezing breaths rasping out. They were genuinely surprised to see the human face of the beast. Aside from the feathers and talons, it appeared to be simply just that. The odd blue glow of one eye was dismissed with the added confusion of the rest of it. 

They stripped it of its belongings, taking the corset of leather which they discovered was a very well made harness for climbing. Which made sense how it was able to evade them so quickly and easily, even in the iron and steel work jungle that was the city landscape. It lacked wings, with only the long cloak to carry the mirage of the exaggeration. The snap of the fabric in quick motion was easily mistaken for wingbeats. The bow and quiver were a surprise, especially with the complicated engineering of the item. It was lovingly crafted and just as well taken care of. It certainly hinted at a higher level of intelligence aside from a mindless beast. 

The contents of its pouches heralded an assortment of fascinating junk and complex weaponry including the flash bombs it had attempted to use on Rulfio and Julian. As well as a jarringly familiar seal that sent a wash of silence over the group.

"Is that-?" Rulfio started as Thomas picked up the personalized item, turning it over in hand.

"Daud needs to know." Thomas cut in, tucking the item into a pocket. He delivered a quick set of commands before disappearing with the faint whispers of the void.

They bound the creature’s wrists and ankles, mindful of the claws it sported as they transported it further into the district. Rulfio sat beside the beast when they arrived to their destination, a room that had been recently repurposed into an interrogation room. A large set of cages had been moved into the space but at the moment, the creature was forced to sit on the floor. It hunkered down, tucking its knees close to its chest and shivered against the dripping cold of its feathers. Without its cloak and the assorted leather of its gear to ward off the chill, it was left barren against the nip of the air. Rulfio felt some sympathy towards it. The long feathers along its back and shoulders did little to protect it now. Large patches had already been plucked clean presumably where the corset had been carefully placed. Instead there was long swathes of pale almost grey flesh beneath, dappled in goosebumps and quivering in the cold.

A soft breathy whimper rose in its throat as it rested its head against its knees. The short soft feathers that sprouted through its hairline were rumpled and in disarray. It didn’t struggle in the bindings, seeming to accept its capture as it was. Either that or it was still in shock from the near death experience of drowning. Rulfio couldn’t blame it for that if he was being honest.

From here, he could almost assume the creature was just a man. A very small and fragile looking man, frightened by circumstance and potentially just trying to survive like the rest of Dunwall's unfortunate. He was armed with defensive weaponry and was far more inclined to flee than to fight, even when facing the Overseers and their lot. It was an odd sight to behold, the stark contrast of confidence and bold actions compared to the shivering helplessness of the creature now. He wasn't the type to be considered a bleeding heart but common decency was a rare trait shared among few and known only by those most in need of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, updates for PMP will be slower due to the fact I'm juggling a couple fics at once now. And also currently fending off being sick. 
> 
> Thank you everyone who has kept up with it so far! I hope to have more out soon! Thank you! 
> 
> Also go check out my fantasy AU for this fandom, Caged Bird if you haven't. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The room had fallen eerily silent as Daud rolled the small dark item around in his hand, his gloved thumb pushing it over to examine the very familiar personalized seal. He looked up at Thomas, the Whaler standing at attention in front of his desk. The blue coloring of his jacket lightened by the dim orange glow of the office. The silence pulled faintly at the assassin’s already frayed nerves. He didn’t like this one bit. The tension was drawn tight over his shoulders as he pushed himself to his feet. 

“Sir?” Thomas asked, awaiting some kind of order. Daud wasn’t quite prepared with an answer. His grey eyes fell back to the item now clutched in his grasp. The Overseers were already enough of a problem to handle as they regrouped from their past losses, organizing a new chain of command and now sweeping the city for this bird creature. It was hard enough trying to navigate the city and conduct business without the added security. He sighed heavily, placing the seal in his pocket.

“You said it was inside a pouch then?” He finally asked.

Thomas nodded in confirmation, an answer already given earlier in his report. It didn’t make sense. The only way the creature could obtain the seal was by entering Dunwall Tower. He himself had had a hard enough time infiltrating the Tower the first time, didn’t intend on ever going back. He had his own troubles to handle as is. Attano of all people would have noticed something that obvious lurking through the Tower, especially if it managed to sneak into what Daud presumed to be his private chambers. 

“What do you want done with it?” Thomas prompted after a moment more of silence.

“I want it under close guard.” He brushed a hand over his jaw, ignoring the cold whisper of air that blew against his neck from the coming storm outside. It was going to be a rough one if the distant rumble was anything to go by. The static charge hummed through the air, sending his hair on end. There was something very wrong about all of this and he had an itchy suspicion that the black eyed bastard had something to do with it. He was always mingling in unnecessary affairs as much as he claimed they didn’t concern him. “I’ll be there shortly. I have a hunch to investigate first.”

“Yes sir.” Thomas was gone in the blink of an eye. The fading whispers of the void hissing in his absence. 

Daud sighed, disembarking from his office and making his way to the lower levels of the building. Tucked easily out of sight and harder to reach than most areas between the flood and the rickety debris, was a shrine. The purple fabric laid across the little pedestal was faded and stained from the elements, illuminated only by the whale oil lamp that offered the scant glow to the dark alcove. The scuttering of rats in the far corners broke the oppressive silence as he knelt before the fixture and prayed to the man that was anything but.

He didn’t have many hopes that the Outsider would answer him, it had been a long time since he had chosen to speak with Daud. But the assassin had some small hope that he would change his interests now that they were in the presence of something that was much more than just the mark. Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, as if he were stuck in his own time bend, spreading along until the cold made his limbs stiff and the chill seeped to his bones with an ethereal ache. His patience was wearing thin with the suffocating silence.

His jaw clenched, the tightness in his shoulders pulled to his chest and old injuries stirred with whispered protests. A storm broke in the distance, the wash of rain scattered across the decrepit buildings. Daud rose to his feet, the prickling static of lightning danced across his skin as he turned away. The flicker of light is what caught his eye, the passage of water which he first thought to be a leak in the old roof had turned into a puddle made backwards. The water rising past his fast up towards the gaps in the concrete exterior. 

The ethereal purple that warped the shadows blanketed around him as he walked, moving deeper into the building until he came to the catwalks above the flood. That was where he met the man, lingering thoughtfully on the edge as if balancing on a beam. He appeared amused if anything. 

“Hello again Daud.” He greeted, cool and indifferent. His black eyes roamed over the assassin with minute curiosity before turning to more interesting matters. “You keep interesting company.” A gesture of movement, the frozen imagery of Rulfio standing over a hunkered down figure. Feathers puddled on the floor where the creature attempted to make itself look smaller than it already was. He saw the faint blue glow rising in wispy smoke from its right eye, skin marred by long inky black lines, dissected by the paler stretches of jagged scarring. Talons curled at its back where the bindings kept it immobilized. The face of a man, Daud noted, twisted in grief and warped by the distinct tracks of fear. A face he’d seen before, many many times before. It felt like a punch to his stomach, knocking what air remained within out.

“What in the void is that thing?” Daud spoke briskly, the rough crackle of his own voice obnoxiously loud in his ears. The Outsider seemed unfazed, walking in small leisurely strides around the scenery. He hovered with no effort, gesturing towards the creature but never touching or nearing it. As if coming in contact with the imagery would shatter it into tiny ripples.

“The Lord Protector has many secrets and this is one he intended to keep far away from Dunwall.” The cryptic teasing held little answer to it as it always did. Daud held back the frustration that curled on his tongue. He bit back the words he wanted to say, to scream and shout at the deity. The twisted broken fragments of a man at the end of his rope. Why now? Why did he listen now of all times? Why was this creature so interesting?

He forced himself to take a good long look at it, to see past the human expression and into the heart of it all. He noted something on the creature’s wrist as he closed the space between them. The faintest flicker of blue and green light against the warped wooden boards of the floor. Soft colors expanding across the pitch of feathers in their own natural array. It was muted here than he would expect but still noticeable. The assassin crouched to examine it closer, leather gloves reached out but stopped just short of contact, hovering over the item before retracting his touch. A bracelet of some kind, buckled and branded with a seaside landscape. It didn’t look like anything the creature could have found here in Dunwall, the soft polished glass was pleasant to the eye and the craftsmanship was almost good enough to pass as professional. Almost.

“A gift for the unforgiven.” The outsider spoke, breaking Daud from his thoughts, pulling him back to standing. The world faded around him as the man spoke. “The answers to your questions are the tools already in your hands. You just have to use them to their full potential.” The parting words were a scant whisper treading through the thunder that cracked above him. The storm rolled in heavily, heaving against the sides of the building with threats of crumbling. If he hadn’t been living here for so long, he’d be of mind to fear their structural integrity.

Daud turned to the storm rolling across the sky, the heavy downpour that flooded over the slanted rooftops and their crumbling ledges. The soft bits of wood that threatened to topple from the years of rot and exposure. He bypassed the problematic areas, blinking from catwalk to catwalk in quick succession. It did little to shield him from the rain but it was enough to keep most of the water from soaking him through. He gripped the collar of his jacket and shook the dampness off, feeling the cold curl of a few stray drops sneak beneath his collar and down his back. He stifled a shiver and entered the new interrogation room where Rulfio and Thomas awaited him.

The creature hadn’t moved much, its body twisted away from the storm that battered the exterior of the building. It shivered more noticeably, its head craned so the assassin could only catch the smallest hints of pale skin on the side of its face. The feathers rumpled through the shaggy black hair were now standing on end. It fidgeted slowly, a gentle rock to its form that bobbed. Soft wheezing breaths rose from its trembling figure. It was hard to tell if this was normal behavior or the sign of sickness.

“Has it said anything?” Daud asked, his pace slowed as he approached. Rulfio was perched on an old filing cabinet, one leg drawn up and the other left low to sway. Thomas leaned against the bare wall across from it, their eyes focused on all sides should the creature cause any form of trouble.

“No.” It was Rulfio who reported. “I don’t think it can actually speak. It makes odd crackling sounds when questioned.” He elaborated while tossing a half-hearted wave towards the huddled figure. “Well, that was before the storm hit. It’s been like this since the rain started.”

“Should we just kill it?” Thomas’ voice prodded at the silence. The question drew a hiss from the creature, sharp and drawn out. The Whalers stiffened but it showed no other signs of defiance.

“Well it seems to understand us.” Rulfio sighed, the tired sound was like static through the mask.

Daud stepped around to the creature’s front, dropping into a crouch eye level with it. He balanced on the balls of his feet inspecting it closely. The creature flinched away from the approach, wiggling its body back along the cold floor to put distance between them. Daud held a hand up, a silent order to the Whalers that moved in just outside of his vision. The stiff actions and subtle twitch of fingers itching for a blade. He turned steel grey eyes on the creature.

“Do you understand me?” Daud waited, patiently as the creature determined whether or not it wanted to cooperate. He didn’t blame it for being frightened and if his Whalers' hunches were right it wasn’t a creature kind to confrontation like this. He couldn’t bully it into answering. He sighed, caught the tiny flinch that quaked through its body as he raised his voice a notch. 

“Rulfio.”

“Sir.”

“Get me one of the spare blankets and see if Yuri has anything to spare from this morning.”

“Yes sir.” The whisper of the void followed as the Whaler raced out of the building. 

“Thomas.” Daud could see the Whaler straighten up to attention.

“Sir.”

“I need pen and paper.” The Whaler waited for any further instructions before vanishing into the storm. Daud didn’t mind the silence that cast over them. The creature had unfurled only a little, its attention fixed on him, conflicted and confused.

He disregarded it, turning his attention towards the bindings. “Move and I won’t hesitate to put you down for good.” He warned icily. The creature stiffened, dipping its head forward as the assassin worked the bindings free and brought its hands to rest in front of it. There he secured them with a little more leeway than before. The creature’s talons clicked together nervously, testing the ropes in a gentle twist. It watched with strangely mismatched eyes as Daud’s thumb lingered over the leather bracelet swiping a gentle touch along the polished glass. It was even more vibrant than in the void, the colors splashing against the wood pleasantly. He could see the allure of it. It was almost childish, something meant for a young woman or little one with the whimsical pattern branded into it.

“This was a gift from someone.” It wasn’t a question but the creature nodded hesitantly in confirmation. Daud withdrew, rocking back onto the balls of his feet before standing just as Rulfio returned. Seconds later, Thomas was close behind. The supplies were bundled closely to prevent being damaged by the pouring rain as they laid them across an adjacent table near the filing cabinet. The creature’s belongings were scattered across the dented metal work. 

Rulfio offered the blanket to the creature, as he stepped slowly towards it and gently draped it over its shoulders. It ducked in a hard flinch but when the warm fabric met the tiny frame, it seemed to come undone under the weight. The soft crackle of its voice stretched in breathy sighs, swelling up with a quake in its fragile form. It lifted its talons to tug at the fabric in weak pulls before giving up altogether. 

“That’s just pitiful.” Thomas murmured still lingering by the table with Daud. They watched as Rulfio moved slowly back around to the front and dug into a cloth sack. His hand returned, holding out a piece of bread to the figure. It was leftover from breakfast earlier that morning, a smear of golden honey leaked from the edge where it’d been stuffed inside of the layers before baking. The creature accepted it with a hesitant reach, mindful of its talons as it picked the pieces apart in easy to eat bites. Rulfio backed away and joined the pair by the table. 

“Am I the only one that feels like something is wrong with this situation?” He offered, glancing between Daud and Thomas. “I’ll take that as a no. Good."

They turned their attention back to the creature as it ate the offered food. The thunder rumbled, startling it briefly as it curled in closer beneath the warm fabric. It was guarded, protecting its meal as if the wind and battering rain could manifest in form and steal it from its claws. The mismatched eyes flickered nervously towards them before being focused back on its bound hands as it carefully picked apart the food. Even with the large blanket, the frame of its shoulders looked minuscule against the rough space surrounding it. Like an abandoned wolfhound pup curled up in an alleyway. Rulfio shifted uneasily by the table, his voice breaking the quiet. "It looks so helpless."

"Looks can be deceiving." Thomas supplied.

Rulfio whirled on the man, gesturing towards the creature a little too animated. "Does that look like deception to you?" He observed the hard edge to Thomas' posture, the indifference it exuded. "You saw how it was around the city. It wasn't violent even when faced with threats-"

"Tell that to the Watch guard that took a hagfish to the face " Thomas scoffed only earning a frustrated growl from Rulfio.

" _ Enough." _ Daud pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a tired sigh. He felt the pull of a headache gathering behind his eyes and the weather wasn't helping the matter. Drawing away from the pair, he gathered the pen and paper into hand. The creature paused in its meal, a black tongue darting past dry cracked lips as it licked the sticky honey from its talons. Mismatched  _ human _ eyes met Daud's careful observant gaze. The odd sideways slide of its eyelids were almost as off putting as the Outsider's eerie black eyes. It was a pretty close second.

"Do you know how to write?" The creature tilted its head and let out a crackled breath. Daud cocked a brow. "I'll take that as a yes." It nodded. He cursed the Outsider lightly under his breath and settled back into a crouch.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them." He laid the paper on the floor and set the pen beside it. The creature balanced the last bites of its food on its knee and leaned forward to accept the pen. It had to wiggle around a bit to get a comfortable position, almost lying on its side with upper torso twisted to loom over the page. It was an uncomfortable looking position but the creature had very little to work with given how it was currently tied up.

It fiddled with the pen in its talons trying to work it into its hands properly. The long curved digits looked stiff presumably from the cold dip into the flood below. It waited quietly for the first question. Daud decided to start simple, something easy that held little threat in knowing. 

"What is your name?"

The creature stiffened beneath him, the pen shifting in its grip in a long stretch of consideration. He wondered for a moment if the creature even had a name to begin with, or if it even remembered it. The concern was dismissed when it started a very slow scratch of ink into parchment. The letters were sloppy and jagged, overly large and almost childlike in their uneven sizing and position. Eventually they spelled out a name.

_ Garrett _

It was a common enough name among the lower class. Nothing eye catching or notable. He carried on with the next question. "Do you know where you are, Garrett?"

A few minutes and a long pause halfway through as the creature seemed to consider how to spell the word it was pondering. Eventually it gave up and leaned back so Daud could read.

_ Dun Wall _

_ 'So probably not a native to the area it seems.' _ Daud considered the misspelling, pondering if it even recognized the district it was in. He dismissed the thought for now.

"Do you know who we are?" He gestured towards the Whalers who had resumed their watchful posts behind him. Garrett didn't even attempt to write. He blinked up at Daud then slowly shook his head.  _ 'Well that answers that.' _

He reached into his pocket, fingers curling around the subtle weight as he withdrew the item that concerned him the most. He held it up, letting the faint evening light expose the carefully engraved seal at the end. "Do you know who this belonged to?" He held it towards Garrett for closer inspection. The creature's eyes lit up with recognition before narrowing on Daud with suspicion.

"Please answer the question." He reminded curtly when the creature's talons wavered with the pen. "Cooperation is rewarded." There was a subtle twitch of fingers towards the blanket on the creature's shoulders and the sparse crumbs of food that were left behind from its earlier meal. It shifted with a conflicted expression, bowing its head to the floor with a light crackle and a drawn out wheeze of breath.

When it looked like the creature had given up on the task, its talons started to move and scratch a single name into the page.

_ Corvo _

It dropped the pen after that, cradling its hands to its chest. The left talons massaged it's right hand displaying a sign of pain in the task. Daud took that into consideration and ceased the interrogation for the time being. He got what he needed. The Outsider's words rang loudly in his ears. If this creature was one of Attano's secrets, then this was a rather large problem he had before him. The Royal Protector wouldn't risk being seen in the presence of a creature such as this without the threat of the Abbey coming down upon him. Yet it appears the creature had been to the Tower and within the Lord Protector's very own chambers. He needed to know more and he didn't anticipate their little friend would be so inclined to answer that. He stowed the seal back into his pocket and stalked back towards his lieutenants.

"Keep an eye on it." He ordered firmly, turning grey eyes over his shoulder when movement flickered. Garrett had huddled completely under the blanket now. Only the top ruffled feathers of his head could be seen as he dragged himself under the warm fabric. His shoulders heaved in shuddering breaths, soft wheezes could be heard fluttering between the heavier rain. Thunder struck across the sky like the protests of a great Leviathan, causing the creature to flinch and curl tighter in his huddle.

"Yes sir." Rulfio spoke softly, seeming to volunteer himself for the job. Thomas shifted, arms linking across his chest thoughtfully. 

"Attano left for a diplomatic trip. I want to know where he went and when he had returned." There were whispers that the Empress was extending talks with nearby isles not yet apart of the Empire. Daud wasn't aware of which had caught the Empress's fancy, just the soft spoken gossip that the Royal Protector was her leading ambassador for the task. Answers were proving harder to find since the Empress' coronation and Attano was taking care not to let even the tiniest hints of information leak out. With all their informants around the city, it was only by chance that one caught a glimpse of the Lord Protector leaving and the quiet vague whispers of why.

"Yes Master." It was a quick enough dismissal as Thomas vanished. Daud followed suit, stepping towards the rain and bracing himself for the cold that seeped throughout his body as he navigated the catwalks back to his office.

* * *

It shouldn't have surprised Daud. In the following days after Garrett's capture, the Whalers appeared to have shown an odd interest for the twisted creature. Gossip spread quickly like rumors in a court of nobility and soon the entirety of the district was aware of Garrett's presence. He caught glimpses of his men leading it around the base and along the catwalks when the weather cleared up and the sun warmed the sparse few hours of daylight between cloud coverage. The creature stretched across the rooftop with pleased trills as his feathers soaked up the warmth. His hands were always bound but Rulfio had taken pity on the creature and cut his legs free. They were rewarded with its obedience. It trailed after whichever Whaler was assigned as its guard. They would bring him food courtesy of Yuri, warm meals of stews and honey sweetened breads that resulted in a sticky mess in its claws.

It came when commanded by name and listened when the Whalers gossiped about the world outside of their flooded home. It picked up little items it found around the base, colorful pebbles or forgotten shells washed up on the edges of the flood. Pieces of soft wood it would carve in its talons into odd shapes. One of the Whalers dared Julian to pet it and it ended with the man getting swatted for his efforts and nearly tossed in the flood. Daud withheld the amused laugh as Thomas reported the shenanigans.

The creature huddled up in the interrogation room, sleeping through the early hours of morning and woke in the afternoons. It was more active at night, clambering over the intricate catwalks and crumbling foundations with little fear. Its grey scaly feet moved silently across broken debris without concern for injury, leaping and scaling across the jungle of urban ruins. The Whalers partnered up and trailed after it, blinking in pairs around it as they raced and leapt from building to building. They had released its hands after the third or fourth day and one of the Whalers returned its climbing harness. It showed them with great pride in its motions, how it traveled the terrain with the same ease as the Whalers themselves. Bit by bit, it eased into a routine with them, constantly surrounded but showing less fear of the company as the days pressed on. 

Daud waited for information to pool in, considered what reports Thomas could scrounge up and returned to further pry answers from Garrett. The creature showed a skill for thievery, picking the pockets of Whalers shamelessly and leaving the stolen items on the table with the rest of its gathered belongings. It seemed almost playful and teasing. An easy mesh with the theatrical antics of Daud's own men.

"He seems harmless enough." Rulfio offered during a meeting in Daud's office. They still lacked any sort of leads and the Overseers were making that even harder with their pursuits across Dunwall. The entire city was on high alert for the creature. People were curious as much as they were horrified, searching for elusive signs that it would appear, trembling with a strange sort of hope and fascination.

"It's probably just biding its time." Thomas cut in earning a grumble from Rulfio.

"You always gotta be a buzzkill?"

"It's better than being killed for carelessness."

"It makes sense now." Rulfio mused, earning a tilt from Thomas' head. "I always thought you walked funny before but now I can see it's just the giant stick up your ass."

"Will you two cut it out?" Daud hissed, turning tired grey eyes on the pair as he laid the most recent report down on his desk. They both uttered a brisk ' _ Sorry' _ then fell back into silence.

"We're out of leads. The Abbey has made it clear they're not to be trifled with after the Draper's Ward incident." He gestured dismissively, his hand came to rub over the scarred side of his face disbanding whatever stress had taken to reside in his muscles. They relaxed as he turned his attention to a cigarette, lighting it up and letting the breeze from the open window pull the smoke out towards the flood. He inhaled heavily, holding the smoke deep in his lungs before exhaling the large cloud. 

"If they're looking for Garrett so badly, why don't we give him to them?" Thomas offered.

Rulfio turned quickly to face the Whaler but whatever sharp comment that threatened to come out was silenced by the hand held up. "He's outsmarted them before."

A snorted, "That's not hard to do." left Rulfio.

"We won't let them take him entirely but it'll definitely get Attano's attention. If the Royal Protector won't leave the Tower or the Empress's side, maybe the Masked Felon  _ will.  _ At least it'll offer an opportunity for answers."

"How do you intend on getting Garrett to agree?" Daud was skeptical that the creature would even want to help them and facing the Overseers was troublesome as is.

Rulfio perked up suddenly, the grin in his tone spelled trouble. "I have an idea." Thomas groaned as the Whaler continued to share his plan.


	7. Drunk and Disorderly

Rulfio's plan was simple. Really really simple. It gave Thomas ulcers just thinking about the ridiculousness of the whole thing. With Yuri's help, they managed to make a batch of pastries stuffed with a strong fruit filled center laced with alcohol. They gave Garrett all of his gear which Rulfio helped him put on, plucking problematic feathers along the way. 

"If you keep losing these, Leon is gonna have a few new pillows soon." Rulfio grumbled, tossing another broken feather out of the way as he synched up the harness. There was a lot more straps, buckles and lacing than either would have liked and even more feathers that had to be cleared away. Rulfio cursed the sheer amount that had grown back in over the last few days. When Garrett was ready, his mask pulled up and hood drawn, Rulfio used a sleep dart on him and carried the unconscious creature out of the Flooded District. A group of Whalers followed behind, prepared for a fight should they cross any trouble along the way.

The early morning light stretched over their huddled group as the beginnings of their plan fell into place. After rousing Garrett from his sleep, Rulfio placated the creature's grumpy demeanor with the pastries. He was hesitant to comply but his own hunger eventually won out and he greedily consumed four of the half dozen pastries. It wasn't long after that that the show started to begin. Thomas glared at Rulfio through his mask, the amused chuckle of the Whaler could be heard through the group as they unleashed a rather drunken bird creature upon the unwary populace near Kaldwin's Bridge. It drew in quite the crowd as the creature stole into homes, evaded the Watch and clambered across buildings with all the delight of a child on a sugar rush. If the thrilled squawking was anything to go by.

* * *

  
  


Fear, Corvo considered it. It made him itchy under his skin, that twisting sharp paranoia that blossomed in his gut and kept him awake late at night. Nightmares of pain that tore at his mind, clawed false terrors into his chest and left him gasping for breath when he'd wake. He regretted what he said to Garrett and he regretted bringing him to Dunwall in the first place. He thought he was doing something good, he thought that he could help the thief break this curse. Instead he drove him away in a city he didn't know, lost him to the masses and was trapped within the confines of his own home like a backwards prison. Every day he had to stand in the halls of nobility and listen to them talk about the creature only made him more bitter. The disgust in their voices, the curiosity as if Garrett were some sideshow of entertainment for their dull daily lives. The rumors that were strung together with exaggerated lies. 

They didn't know the man beneath the affliction. They didn't know the story or the struggles he had to overcome, the pain of being turned into something  _ other  _ than oneself. The hatred that bled into his heart was cold as he departed each evening. Emily was his only consolation. Her quiet optimism and hopeful queries eased the pain that lanced through Corvo's heart. He couldn't bring himself to deny her that simple hope. Sleep eluded him as shadows warped what solace he could clutch at into fading embers of void ash. The Outsider was painfully silent and at this point Corvo didn't care anymore. The mark and the void be damned.

He felt that sinking feeling turn into a cold pit when he heard the Overseers were hunting down the strange bird creature. There were whispers of what transpired in Draper's Ward. His spies had secured confirmation that they were true. Soon after, sightings of the creature all but vanished and the Overseers were startlingly more active than before. There was talk that the creature eluded the Overseer's music, Corvo clung to the hope that that was true. He couldn't imagine what horrors would follow should they actually capture Garrett. The thief didn't know what he was up against. 

Days stretched into weeks. Sokolov had no new leads on how to fix the curse and it did them no good without Garrett present even if they did find an answer. He left his window open and unlocked at night, searching his room in the mornings or brief hours of wakefulness eager to catch a glimpse of the thief sneaking about. His heart would fall each time he found emptiness.

Emily noticed, despite his stoicism during their encounters in the Throne room. Smart girl as she was, she knew. In the gentle brush of fingers against his, the tiniest smiles slipped towards him when they were left alone. She  _ knew _ and that only seemed to make it all the worse. She didn't blame him for Garrett leaving.

"Sometimes people say or do things they don't mean to because they care  _ too _ much." She told him one evening while they shared a plate of pastries in his chamber. She had snuck them from the kitchen, still warm from the oven up to his room through the hidden passage. "It doesn't mean you should stop caring."

He smiled softly, breaking a warm flaky pastry in half and watching the chocolate drip along the edges as he lifted it to his mouth. He hadn't been eating well with the ball of stress knotting him up inside. She noticed, as she noticed everything. "When did you become so wise?" He teased lightly, popping a piece into his mouth. She grinned up at him, a smear of chocolate on her lips which she dabbed at with a napkin hastily after.

"Garrett knows you care about him and he cares about you too." She continued. "He'll come back. People just need time when they're upset. A lot has happened to him and it could be overwhelming." She reasoned.

Corvo felt the swell of emotions in his chest, sympathy, pride, and grief. He'd been so wrapped up in the world around him and his own problems, he often forgot how much she was changing. Growing. Becoming the bright young woman that Jessamine was so long ago when they'd first met. It tore at something inside that felt so raw and broken. He stifled the shuddered breath, easing a smile through the pain. "You're growing up so fast."

The next day, after Emily's very persuasive argument, Corvo found himself joining a patrol in the city. She offered in the brief quiet company they managed in the early hours of morning, that he needed time to decompress. He was anxious and antsy. He argued, of course he did. But yet again he was reminded of how much she was changing before his eyes. "One day won't hurt." She pressed. That stubborn set of her jaw that mirrored her mother was a dagger to his chest. She was unwavering when she put her mind to it and he was forced to oblige her request after a soft spoken plea.

He was curious to know what exactly Callista was teaching her behind closed doors. He knew she was fast learning how to navigate the tricky words of nobles who would try to take advantage of her age and lack of experience, but he didn't anticipate it being turned against him. He was grateful once he was beyond the towering walls of the Tower and moved deeper into Dunwall. They crossed Kaldwin's Bridge, with a determined sweep. The Watch was just as riled up with talk of the creature, caught between their duties of disposing of lingering weepers and fearing the creature that lurked along the rooftops.

They were headed for the waterfront at least, chasing rumors of weepers wandering out of the sewers and making their way up towards the residential areas. They hadn't anticipated the detour of action that happened in a flurry of screams and movement. A rush of people scattered about, some running towards the Watch in frantic escape, others lingering against the walls with heads turned towards the rooftops. In the cacophony of screams, he heard the source of the trouble.

"Its the creature!"

"Run!"

"Its attacking!"

Minutes passed as he stood firm with the Watch. The patrol spread out with weapons drawn. Corvo drew his sword if only for the image of preparation but he didn't intend on harming Garrett. He hoped it wouldn't come to that but without knowing the truth, without knowing if the man he loved was still there below the surface. It seeped cold dread into his bones. Had he given up on fighting? If the curse was held off with strength of will alone, did he surrender to its call? He had no way of knowing and he feared the choices that would force his hand. He wished he had never brought Garrett to Dunwall.

A flash of movement caught his eye. The Watch startled as a dark figure dropped down to street level. People dispersed in a rush of terror. The crackle of a broken voice formed beneath the screams, barely audible through the wall of people but Corvo heard it. The small lone figure stood unsteadily in the street. The large bodies that scrambled away dwarfed his frail figure. He swayed on his feet. The wisp of an eerie blue eye met Corvo's and a flash of recognition crossed Garrett's pale sunken features. He looked tired and even thinner than before. Much of his feathers were missing, blood dribbled down his arms where scrapes and injuries had colored the white skin a deep black smear. He looked out of it, his gaze unsteady as he stumbled almost drunkenly.

There was a groan that drew from his chest, a shudder of shoulders and a raspy cough. "Do not engage!" Corvo commanded firmly, the Watch stood wary in their positions. The distant screams of terrified civilians put them on edge. He slid his sword back into his scabbard, his fingers lingered on the hilt before discarding the thought. A gasp of surprise left one of the younger officers, his stance wavered but a sharp look pinned him in place. 

Garrett stepped towards Corvo, a slow approach still wary of the people around him. His head tilted, sideways lids blinking slowly. A drawn out cough and labored breaths. Corvo caught a whiff of something bitter underneath, familiar still. It wasn't until he took a step closer than he recognized it as whiskey. Garrett wasn't one to drink. In all the time he'd known the thief, he had never touched a drop of alcohol aside from using it for injuries. Warning bells sounded in the back of his mind. His eyes quickly cast up to the rooftops, the prickling sense of being watched curled at his spine. They weren't alone.

Garrett's head snapped up as if startled. He stumbled back away from Corvo. The Royal Protector reached out towards the thief, hushing him gently like a spooked animal. Flickers of the Clocktower returned in a rush all at once. The agitated stance, the fear that crested his face, twisting it into something morbid. His eyes blinked, a glossy sheen glistened back as the thief turned quickly to flee. 

One of the Watch shouted. Corvo felt his blood suddenly run cold as a gunshot was fired. He turned on the men with a snarl. "I said stand down!" A screech of pain cut through his outburst. A trail of blood speckled the cobblestone as Garrett scaled the metalwork of a nearby building with labored effort. A splash of shadows and the flicker of ash was a moment of disbelief as he watched a blue clad Whaler wrap Garrett up in a tight embrace. A sleep dart planted in his shoulder before they vanished in the blink of an eye. Another jolt of shadows hissed by, the glimpse of dark masks and grey coats before the street was left in eerie silence. 

* * *

  
  


"Brilliant plan there Rulfio!" Thomas chided, the heated glare he directed at the other Whaler was lost to the tiny lenses of his mask. He folded his arms across his chest, inspecting the limp figure spread out in the crisp white sheets of an infirmary bed. It was one of a dozen similar cots inside the building. Most were empty aside from two Whalers, one that seemed to have caught a stomach bug and another that sprained their ankle during a routine patrol.

The bed before them was occupied by the creature, a fresh bandage wrapped around his upper right thigh where a bullet grazed the meat of his leg. It wasn't anything too serious but they had trouble getting it to stop bleeding. The black fluid that leaked from the creature's wounds was disturbing enough as is. The small cuts and scrapes that littered his body were a stark contrast to the ghostly pallor of his skin. They had to sedate him twice. The first time just to get him back to the district where their physician Leon woke him up with concern that he'd stop breathing in his sleep with the drug. That didn't last long when the creature woke and nearly tore Leon's arm off with his talons accompanied by terrified screeching and wild thrashing. They couldn't get near him and were forced to dart him from a distance when he attempted to flee the infirmary into the flood.

Rulfio was in the process of binding his hands and feet to keep him from losing his mind again and hurting anybody. "I don't need your bullshit today." Rulfio snapped, testing the bindings on the creature's limbs before settling back. "At least we got Attano's attention."

"You could say that." The derisive snort was unwelcome but Thomas dismissed the dark look he got in return. "So now what?" 

"We send a message." Rulfio withdrew the letter from his pocket. It was sealed, written by Daud himself and accompanied by the personalized seal. "I'll leave that to you."

"Thanks." The heavy sarcasm was not lost as Thomas rolled his eyes, taking the items and tucking them into his pocket. He wasn't anticipating the trip to the Tower or facing a potentially angry Attano. He just hoped Rulfio's stunt earlier in the day would offer him enough leverage to keep things civil.

* * *

Corvo had been on edge since the incident at Kaldwin's Bridge, pacing frantically about in his private chamber as he replayed the scene over and over in his head. The drunken stance Garrett stumbled in, the uncertainty and fear in his eyes, the hesitance and recognition that flickered so briefly. He cursed himself for his shortsightedness. He had been so focused on the Overseers and their influence on the situation that he forgot about the Whalers and their entire existence still lingering in the city. His hopes were skewed in knowing the Whalers had something to do with Garrett's sudden disappearance and reappearance. In the long run, it was better than him falling into the hands of the Overseers but that didn't stop the anger he felt in knowing they put him in danger like that. He feared whatever plans they may have for the thief next.

His frustrations were momentarily shattered by the discomforting prickle of familiarity that stirred in the back of his head. The tingling of nerves that came forth, a warning bell he learned to heed through the void. His gaze darted towards the window as he inspected the shadows beyond. The flicker of void ash and the blur of blue on the edges of the perimeter were a signal beacon of a lone Whaler. His eyes searched for any other signs before trailing after the figure where it perched in the distance. He could barely make out the silhouette against the darkening rooftops.

Against his better judgement, Corvo grabbed his sword and jacket, pausing to contemplate his mask before giving in. He slipped it on and exited the Tower under cover of shadow, making his way to the quiet rendezvous the Whaler seemed to have established. He waited quietly on the rooftop, a meeting point clearly in the open. A quick sweep with Dark Vision told him there was nobody nearby hiding just beyond his normal sight. It did little to console his nerves about the situation.

“Lord Protector.” The voice that came from the Whaler was familiar enough, taking Corvo back to his time in the Flooded District over a year ago. A shiver raced down his spine as he paused in his approach, leaving several paces between them. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, anticipation wound tight in his shoulders as he inspected the other man. He recalled him to be Daud’s second in command.  _ Thomas, was it? _ His memory was still a little sluggish over the events during that time and the poison hadn’t helped.

“What do you want?” Corvo called in the quiet drawn out between them. Thomas shifted with equal amount of unease in his presence as Corvo felt about the whole thing. As if he wasn’t pleased with being here before the Royal Protector once more. The last time he encountered the Whalers, he had spared them under the promise that they leave and never come back to Dunwall. That promise was not heeded apparently but their activities since then had died down to give the illusion of absence.

Thomas reached into a pouch on his belt, pausing when Corvo tensed. He held one hand up in a placating manner. “I have a message for you.” He slowly withdrew his other hand and held the letter out towards him. With it was a familiar dark object that had been missing from his chambers. He stiffened, stepping close enough to accept the items, his eyes inspecting the seal Garrett had claimed for himself. The letter was marked with Daud’s handwriting. Breaking the seal on the letter, he unfolded the paper and watched as two pieces slipped out. One larger and folded neatly with a smaller one fit between. It was torn around the edges and had one word scrolled across it. Corvo recognized the handwriting as Garrett’s, the large overly awkward letters and too hard press of a pen into parchment as he struggled with his talons. The single word was Corvo’s name.

The second paper was written by Daud. It explained that Garrett was apprehended while trying to access the Flooded District and that the Whalers have been keeping him safe since while trying to reach out to Corvo. If he wanted Garrett returned, he would need to follow Thomas back to the Flooded District to negotiate the thief’s release. It was ended with a reminder that Garrett’s safety was ensured as long as Corvo played along and didn’t cause trouble for them, including harming or attempting to use Thomas for any unnecessary stunts.

Corvo grunted, folding the papers up and shoving the letter back into his pocket with the seal. His eyes lifted to pin Thomas in place with distrust but he relented when the Whaler straightened up and gestured towards the city behind them. 

“Ready?”

Corvo nodded, letting Thomas lead the way but keeping the Whaler well within sight as they traversed the rooftops. The Whaler was well versed in the layout of the area which sparked an itchy feeling of unease as they pulled away from the bright lights and busier areas of the city as it started to turn in for the evening. When they reached the quieter areas closer to the Flooded District, was when Corvo finally spoke up, breaking the heavy silence that settled between them.

“How is he doing?” He called to Thomas, closing in on the Whaler where he perched on the ledge, watching the guards down below patrolling the perimeter. They wandered off down around the corner before either made a move to cross down to street level and darted to the next alley, scaling the next rooftop and making their way onward. Once on the other side, Thomas answered, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. 

“He’s doing fine. The others like him and he seems to be enjoying himself causing problems for the novices.”

“And the gunshot wound?” Corvo pressed, his comfort wasn’t so easily won at the thought knowing the thief was injured. That his own men had inflicted that injury upon him left him bitter and unpleasant since the incident. 

“It was a graze. Our doctor took care of it.” Thomas informed quietly. “He had to be restrained and sedated to be treated just so you’re aware. He may still be like that when you see him.”

Corvo was well aware of how complicated it was to wrangle Garrett into a sensible obedience even before he was cursed. Afterwards, it's a death sentence to tangle with those talons if one isn’t aware of the consequences of their sharp tips. “Earlier today, he was drunk. I could smell the whiskey on him.” His voice trailed with the unspoken question. He watched as Thomas hunched his shoulders and sighed.

“We were trying to get your attention but were unaware of how to approach without you taking it as a sign of trouble.” Thomas started to explain, his pursuits across the rooftops halted as he perched once more, watching the guard patrols with scrutiny before picking the next route. Corvo followed close by, sharing shadows with the smaller man and darting across the short stretches of lighting.

“So you unleashed a drunken anomaly into the city when the Overseers are looking for him?” Corvo couldn’t keep his voice from the sharp edge, anger rising in his words and lacing his tongue with a poison tip. The same fury he’d been harboring at himself was being pressed in Thomas’ direction now. 

Thomas was unbothered by the aggression slipping into the Lord Protector’s tone but he did stop and face him in the darkened shadows of an alley. “Do not misunderstand our intentions. We were well aware of his resistance against the Overseer music boxes. We had seen it firsthand in Draper’s Ward just as the rest of the city did.” His words were calm but firm as he met Corvo’s masked expression. The fear that once wormed into Thomas’ gut at the image of that mask was absent now in knowing the worst has long since past and they had no real reason to fear Corvo anymore. The man made his stance known and that’s why Daud was so at ease with this plan to begin with. At least, that’s what Thomas took from the whole ordeal.

“As you saw at Kaldwin’s Bridge, he was in no real danger. We were watching him closely to ensure he wouldn’t be harmed. Not much can be said on your part.” The snipe was well deserved and Corvo knew it but it didn’t stop him from recoiling at the accusation. Thomas turned away and continued up the side of the building, bringing them closer to the Flooded District as the lights faded and the streets grew eerily quiet. Silence resumed between them.


End file.
